


The Fear and the Fire and the End of the World

by nativeportlandian



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Avatar (Avatar TV), Angst, Badass Katara (Avatar), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, I listened to a lot of hozier while writing this, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, mostly zuko angst anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28608459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nativeportlandian/pseuds/nativeportlandian
Summary: The avatar was never awakened. Instead, a resistance group from the two remaining kingdoms rise up against the Fire Nation and the so-called “Phoenix King” Ozai. Zuko, deposed and desperate to regain his honor in his family, proposes an idea: he will go undercover and burn them down from the inside. But something changes when he meets the leader of the resistance - the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 69





	1. It's not the waking, it's the rising

Zuko had been sitting in the courtyard, attempting to meditate, when the extremely frazzled messenger ran past him and up the steps of the palace, clutching a scroll tied with a black ribbon. Zuko raised an eyebrow at the interruption, but went back to his meditation. Sure, it was a bit of an unusual sight - messengers weren’t typically that stressed - but maybe it was a newbie who had never been in the palace of Phoenix King Ozai. Zuko felt a brief stab of pity for the man - the message he was carrying was obviously important, but the expression on his face did not indicate that it was good news.

Zuko had seen a lot of messengers coming and going these days. Hawks couldn’t get directly to the palace - Ozai found them messy and the idea of a rookery at the palace disgusted him. So they came on foot from the outpost in the city, carrying the paper scrolls in clenched fists. 

He wasn’t much involved with the everyday comings and goings of the palace. He mostly felt like an ornament more than anything, which irritated him. Zuko had been removed from his place in the royal family when he was thirteen, after he had spoken out against his father. His father had nearly killed him in the Agni Kai that followed. Ozai had then wanted to banish Zuko, but settled for merely stripping him of any power his blood held and confining him to the palace for the rest of his life. This was partly due to Zuko’s uncle Iroh, who was a soft man that stepped in front of his own brother to defend his nephew and beg for his mercy. Sometimes, Zuko wished he had been killed instead.

It had been eight years since that event. Zuko spent a good deal of his time being bored, practicing his firebending forms, and sneaking out of the palace whenever he could. In that time, his father and sister had begun their conquest of the rest of the world. While Zuko remained confined to the palace, his family continued the war his great-grandfather Sozin had started. They’d been at a stalemate in the Earth Kingdom for a very long time, but on the day of Sozin’s Comet, Ozai and Azula were able to breach the walls of Ba Sing Se. Just like that, the Earth Kingdom was under their power, and the war was deemed over. Ozai declared himself Phoenix King, and the world was under his rule.

That particular event was three years ago. Zuko wouldn’t necessarily call the world “peaceful” - there were still numerous uprisings, but they were quickly and brutally stomped out by the power of the Fire Nation army. Azula had told him before she left to take over ruling Ba Sing Se that they were nothing more than “peasant revolts” that they could easily handle. As if to drive home the point, she’d crushed the plant beside them under her foot.

He wouldn’t really call himself “jealous” of his younger sister, or any of the rest of his family. He had been removed from the line of succession, and this was something Zuko just had to live with. No, the thing that bothered him most was the looks he got.

Iroh spent the most time around him. His soft bronze gaze would measure Zuko with pity and sadness. This always made Zuko’s blood boil and his fingers twitch. How dare this man look at him like a kicked, forgotten dog when he was no better? Zuko hated the idea of living his life like Iroh did. Another deposed prince, the man spent his days sitting in the garden and drinking tea and giving Zuko sad, pitying looks. He did nothing and amounted to nothing.

Azula often acknowledged Zuko, even if it was to demean and embarrass him. She acted like she had won something from him and had been gloating over it for eight years. In a way, Zuko supposed she had. Not only did she have power over the entire Earth Kingdom, but she was also next in line for the position of Firelord. It was as if Zuko may have been an obstacle for some time, but now he was no better than a palace pet - and Azula made sure to rub this in his face as often as possible. 

His father barely looked at him at all. Even when Zuko sat down with the family for dinner, Ozai’s gaze (the same color as his, everyone told him so) never lingered on his son for more than a second. It was like he was an unsightly piece of pottery his father was looking for an excuse to get rid of. But Zuko craved his father’s attention more than anything else. 

It was like an obsession. Zuko waited all the time for his moment, his opportunity to prove himself to his father and maybe regain his place in the family. He wasn’t like Iroh, content to sit around all day and never have a say in the affairs of his nation or his family. No. Zuko had a destiny, and he knew someday he would achieve it.

The opportunity presented itself later that evening in the form of an emergency meeting of the Phoenix King and his advisors. Zuko often kept his ear to the ground when it came to matters of the palace, and this night was no exception. When he saw the generals and government officials all file into the throne room, shadows of worry and fear creasing their faces, Zuko followed. He crouched at the edge of the door, left ajar by some careless general, and listened.

“Something important was brought to my attention today,” Ozai started. His voice was soft, but had a hard edge that made Zuko’s body flood with fear. “An uprising.”

The room was silent. Zuko knew even the most war-hardened generals in that room were frozen like a mouse-sparrow in front of a cat-snake. Ozai’s voice was laced with venom. He was angry. Very angry.

“Would someone care to tell me,” the Phoenix King started, his voice beginning to rise, “how a group of _peasants_ managed to gain control of an entire _city_?” At the end of the sentence, a blast of heat fled the room. Zuko could practically see the fires on the dais blazing further toward the ceiling, in time with Ozai’s rage. The officials closer to the dais probably had their beard singed off.

The room remained silent. Then, Ozai’s voice, ringing like thunder. “ _General Shi._ ”

There was a shuffling of feet, like the man had just gotten up off his knees. Zuko’s eyes widened. General Shi was in charge of all the foot soldiers in the southern Earth Kingdom. He was an old man, old enough to have served under Azulon, and almost never spoke up in war meetings. He did what he was told and did it without question. A perfect general. Zuko shook his head. Whatever Shi had done, it was over for him now. Such a shame.

“How is that an entire platoon of soldiers is driven out of Omashu by a handful of untrained savages?” Ozai snarled. “We have lost control of an entire _city_. An Earth Kingdom stronghold!” Zuko could practically feel the general shaking. He could barely stop himself from doing so. “Tell me, Shi!”

“Your highness,” General Shi said, his voice incredibly low. Zuko had to lean closer to the door in order to hear him. “You must understand. This was no unplanned uprising. They were like an army -”

“An army, Shi?” Ozai hissed, cutting him off. “Are you trying to inform me that the Fire Nation army is no longer capable of squashing a peasant revolt?”

“No, your highness!” General Shi said, obviously back-peddling. “I would _never_ say such things!”

Ozai was quiet for a moment. “It appears there is something wrong with my army, General Shi,” he said. His voice had dropped back into something akin to calm - a very bad sign. “The problem is quite obvious, in fact. A bumbling old fool is in charge of my soldiers.”

“Your highness, please let me explain -” General Shi’s voice pitched upwards into panic.

“An error like this, Shi, will not be tolerated,” Ozai snapped. “Guards, take the general away. I will decide later whether or not he is of any use at all.”

“No, please!” Shi said, his voice becoming shrill. Zuko scuttled back from the door as the guards came through it, dragging the struggling man between them. General Shi’s face was red from strain, and his eyes were wild with fear. Zuko watched from the shadows as he was taken down a hallway, whimpers echoing off the stone walls.

Zuko did not listen very much to the rest of the meeting, which seemed to revolve around the fact that Omashu was no longer Fire Nation rule. Instead he leaned against the wall next to the doors, the beginnings of a plan forming in his head.

Omashu had been taken back by the Earth Kingdom. This was unprecedented. Sure, there had been revolts across the country ever since Ozai took over Ba Sing Se, but no one had ever taken back a city, let alone one that large. Zuko had a feeling that this revolutionary group meant business, and Ozai knew that they were a threat, despite his blaming of Shi. And this revolutionary group might just be Zuko’s long-awaited opportunity to earn back his father’s respect.

Zuko waited until the meeting ended, and all the generals and advisors left the room, whispering amongst each other. He didn’t like to enter the throne room without being invited - Ozai usually used this as an opportunity to reprimand Zuko on his manners - but this couldn’t wait. Zuko took a deep breath, then reached for the door.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. Zuko stiffened, letting his arm drop to his side. Of course this would happen.

“Nephew!” Iroh said, voice as jovial as ever. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Did you know that the fire lilies bloomed today? You must come and see. They are quite a sight!”

Zuko gritted his teeth. “I don’t care about the stupid flowers, Uncle,” he said, shaking off Iroh’s hand from his shoulder. “I need to talk to father about something important.”

Iroh’s eyes hardened, and his mouth set in a thin line. “I am not so sure that is a good idea, Prince Zuko,” he said, voice soft despite his expression. “My brother has not been in good spirits lately.”

“I have an idea, Uncle,” Zuko said. “I know how to make use of myself. I just need to talk to Father.”

“Zuko, you make use of yourself every day in the palace,” Iroh said, placatingly. “Even the smallest cogs are integral to the function of the whole machine.”

Zuko had no idea whether or not he should be insulted by the proverb. “I can be more,” he said, shooting his uncle a scathing look. “I know I can.” Without waiting for Iroh to stop him again, Zuko pushed his way through the doors of the throne room.

His father was sitting atop the dais, the flames around him low. He seemed to be thinking, but as Zuko entered the room and kneeled before him, his cold eyes focused solely on his son.

“Zuko,” Ozai said coolly. “I don’t remember requesting your presence.”

“You did not, Father,” Zuko said. He focused on the ground before him. It was the only way to keep himself from shaking. “I want to help you take back Omashu.”

The flames in front of him blasted upwards in a whoosh. Zuko held his position on the floor. He knew that he had spoken boldly. But if he just had a chance to explain -

“How do you know about Omashu?” Ozai snapped. “Listening in on private meetings again, Zuko? How many times must you learn your _place_?”

Zuko’s body was deeply regretting the choice to come in here. He felt like the generals must have only a few minutes prior - prey in the eyes of a predator. But when would he get a chance like this again? “Father -”

“I told him, Ozai.” Zuko whipped around. Iroh stood at the door to the throne room, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe. His face looked like it was carved from stone. “Would you rather he hear from idle palace gossip?”

Ozai stared down at his brother. If anyone else had spoken to the Phoenix King in such a matter, Ozai would have burned them on the spot. But the old man held something over his brother that no one else did. Even though Iroh no longer had any standing in the royal family, he had still been a mighty general and prince to the Fire Nation. He stood before his younger brother without fear - perhaps the only person in the entire world who could do so.

“I suppose not,” Ozai finally said, settling back into his throne. The fires around him died down. “Still. The boy should not be involved with such matters.”

Zuko swallowed the retort that rose in his throat. “Father, I have a plan to take down the resistance. Please hear me out.”

Ozai flapped one hand, as if shooing a troublesome fly. “There’s nothing that you can come up with that my best generals haven’t suggested.”

"Who’s to say that these revolutionaries are even a true problem?” Iroh piped up, stepping forward to stand by Zuko. Zuko shot the old man a scathing look, but Iroh either didn’t notice or didn’t care. His bronze gaze was fixed on his brother. “They are nothing compared to the might of the Fire Nation. Why bother wasting resources on a group that will burn themselves out before the leaves turn?”

Ozai’s eyes narrowed. “I will not be sitting back and allowing _any_ resistance undermine me. They will be exterminated. It is only a matter of time.”

Zuko refused to be left out of the conversation. “Let me infiltrate the group and take them down from inside.”

Both brothers suddenly turned to look at him, identical expressions of surprise on their faces. Zuko stood up taller, clenching his fists at his sides. “They won’t recognize me - I’ve been outside of the public eye for years. I can get information from them. I can find out their next steps, and send them back to you.”

Iroh had already started shaking his head. “Nephew, that is much too dangerous. If they discover your identity, they will kill you!”

But Zuko wasn’t looking at his uncle. He was focusing on his father, who seemed to be considering the proposal. “They’ll never know,” he said, voice on the edge of pleading. “And I am fully capable of taking care of myself. Master Piandao says I am close to mastering the Dao swords.”

Ozai folded a hand over his mouth, like he always did when he was considering something. When Iroh began to express how much he didn’t like the idea again, Ozai silenced him with an outward facing palm.

“It’s an intriguing idea,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “And relatively low risk.” Zuko tried to cover the flinch he felt at the slight. The meaning was obvious - he was expendable. Ozai’s eyes glimmered. “This may be a good exercise for you, Zuko.”

Zuko’s heart was hammering in his chest. Part of him hadn’t expected his father to agree. “You won’t be disappointed, father,” he said, dropping into a bow. When he stood up again, Zuko did not miss the concerned look on Iroh’s face.

“It’s settled then,” Ozai said, sitting back. “Infiltrate this ‘resistance’. Send me word of their plans. We shall stomp them out and take back what’s ours.” He flicked his hand, indicating that his son should leave. Zuko bowed once more, and turned to leave the room.

“However.” The words froze Zuko in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder, instinctively using the uninjured side of his face to look back at his father. Ozai’s gaze felt like daggers pinning him to the spot. “If you do not succeed, you will not be permitted to return. Ever.”

“Ozai, is that really nec -” Iroh had tried to come to Zuko’s aid, but Ozai had stopped him with a look that would have burned holes in the floor. He turned back to his son. 

“Am I understood, Zuko?”

For some reason, the fact that this was his one and only chance to redeem himself steeled his resolve. Zuko straightened himself to his full height and nodded once. “Yes, sir.”

...

Later, when he was packing in his room, there was a knock at the door. Zuko closed his eyes, annoyed. He knew exactly who it was. “Come in.”

Iroh stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Zuko expected him to be angry, but Iroh only looked concerned. _Typical_ , Zuko thought, sneering. _He doesn’t think I can handle it._

“Nephew, I beg you to reconsider,” Iroh said. His voice was serious, but tinged with something like fear. “Do you understand what is at stake here?”

Zuko felt a surge of anger, and immediately rounded on the man, his hands heating up. “Of course I know what’s at stake here! Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Iroh’s eyes narrowed. “Of course not. But I can see that you’re hurting, my nephew. This choice has no good outcome.”

“No good outcome?” Zuko snarled. “You don’t seem to understand this, _old man_ , but I actually want to make something of myself. You may be happy in this gilded prison, but I’m not!” As if to prove his point, Zuko whirled and shot a fist out at the wall, letting out a burst of uncontrolled flame. It scorched the paint, but the wall remained intact. Zuko almost wished he could have burned a hole through it, but he was too worked up to be focused on his bending.

Iroh seemed unfazed by the outburst. His mouth was a thin line, but his eyes had that awful pitying look in them. Zuko hated him more than anything in that moment. It was typical of Iroh to not understand what Zuko needed. To treat him like he was still a thirteen year-old, weeping over the burns that had disfigured his face forever. 

“This will not win your father’s love,” Iroh said, voice soft. 

All the anger suddenly fled Zuko’s system, like a great wind had snuffed the flame in his chest. “You don’t know that,” he said, voice choked. He would not cry. He would not show his uncle the weakness that he had so easily pinpointed.

“I do,” Iroh said, taking a careful step forward. “Zuko...please understand. Ozai is…” He paused, glancing at the door. “My brother is not a man worthy of your sacrifice. Please.” Iroh dipped his head down, and a tear slipped from one closed eye. “I would not be able to withstand another loss.”

Zuko looked away. He didn’t want to see the man cry. He didn’t want to think about his aunt, who had died of a sickness that made her waste away into bones. He didn’t want to think about his cousin, who had never returned from the war. Zuko could not think about Iroh’s perspective, because if he thought about it too hard he might change his mind.

“I’m sorry, Uncle,” he said, quietly. “I have to do this.”

Iroh remained quiet, staring down at the floor. For a moment, Zuko thought his uncle might turn and leave. Part of him wanted him to, and the other part desperately needed him to stay. Finally, Iroh took a breath and met Zuko’s eyes. There was no trace of the weeping old man now - this was the Dragon of the West.

“You will need to travel light,” he said. Iroh removed one hand from his sleeve and gestured toward Zuko’s half-packed bag. “You cannot take anything resembling Fire Nation wear.”

Zuko opened his mouth to argue, but Iroh cut him off. “You have an advantage in that no one outside the palace has seen you since the Agni Kai. The rest of the world has forgotten about you or assumed you dead. But that does not mean you can be careless.”

“I wasn’t planning on being careless,” Zuko snapped. “I’m twenty years old uncle, not thirteen.”

“My son died at the age of twenty-two,” Iroh snapped. “Your age means nothing, Zuko. This is dangerous.” Zuko bowed his head, cowed. Iroh continued. “I have some Earth Kingdom money that you will take. It is not much, so you must spend it wisely. Get yourself food and an ostrich horse. It is a long way to Omashu.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

Iroh let out a long sigh, as if the spirit of the general he had once been had been possessing him and was now gone. He reached out and put his hands on either side of Zuko’s shoulders. Zuko tensed at this - he was not touched often and the feeling of warm hands on him made his heart race with fear. 

“I believe you are a good man, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said. “I trust that you will someday bring honor to our people.” With that, the old man brought Zuko into a tight hug. 

Zuko fought the instinctual urge to pull back as if he were being strangled. Iroh was short and soft but also exceptionally strong. Somewhat unsure of himself, Zuko let his arms tentatively brush over Iroh’s shoulders.

“Please, Zuko,” Iroh mumbled into his nephew’s shoulder, “be careful.”

...

The next morning, dressed in peasant clothing purchased from a very confused vendor, Zuko walked down to the docks. He carried a satchel over his shoulder that contained the money Iroh had given him, as well as the Earth Kingdom dagger he’d been gifted by the same old man ten years before. His Dao swords were slung across his back, drawing some odd looks from passersby.

It may not have been just the Dao swords as the reason he was getting such strange glances. As he had left the palace gates at sunrise, Zuko had remembered one last tip from his uncle.

_“You must cut your hair, Prince Zuko.”_

_“What? Why would I do that?”_

_“A phoenix tail is only worn by Fire Nation nobility. It will give you away.”_

_“But-”_

_“No buts.”_

And so Zuko had knelt in the shadow of the gates and pulled the dagger from his pack. Without thinking too much about it, he grabbed the base of his hair and pulled it straight. With the other hand, he sliced the sharpened dagger through the roots.

It came away so easily, falling limp in his hand like a dead animal. Zuko immediately felt a wave of regret - citizens of the Fire Nation did not cut their own hair unless they were grieving. But in a way, Zuko supposed he was. After all, if he failed this endeavor, he could consider himself good as dead. 

He set the hair aflame in his palm and watched it turn into ash.

Now, on the docks, Zuko imagined what he must look like to the rest of the citizens of the capital: a dirty, ugly, bald peasant. He couldn’t help but scowl. If only they knew. He approached a dingy old ship that may have once flown Earth Kingdom sails, judging by the design. Now it flew the insignia of the Fire Nation - the same as every other ship in the harbor.

“Excuse me,” Zuko said, approaching the sailor that was half asleep next to the gangplank of his ship, propped up on a large pile of ropes.

The sailor looked up at him, giving him a once over. It seemed like the man might ask him a question about his state of dress, or the scar on his face, or his recently shorn bald head. Instead he said, “Need something, son?”

Zuko’s scowl deepened at the man’s choice of words. “I need passage to the Earth Kingdom. Where are you going?”

The man’s brow came down over his eyes. “Trust me, son. You don’t want to go there. It’s a mess. You’re much better off here.”

Zuko closed his eyes and willed himself to remain civil and not yell. “Is this boat going to the Earth Kingdom today or not?”

“Port Uzure, in the South. Not far from the Kolau mountains. You know I heard there was a bit of an uprising near -”

“Perfect,” Zuko said, cutting the man off. He pulled his satchel and shoved his hand inside. His fingers curled around the few Fire Nation coins that he had thrown in there, and he quickly presented them to the man. “Will that be enough?”

The sailor’s eyes widened. With the quickness that surprised Zuko, his dirty hand grabbed the coins and shoved them into a pocket tied to his waist. “Yes, that’ll cover it,” the man said. He shot Zuko a grin. Several of his teeth were missing. Zuko tried not to recoil at this. “Welcome aboard, son.”

Zuko bristled. “Don’t call me that,” he snapped. The sailor threw up his hands in defense.

“Jeez, sorry. What should I call you then? It’ll be a few weeks ‘til we reach the Earth Kingdom. We might as well know each other.” He gave Zuko a small, informal bow. “I’m Yozuh.”

Zuko froze. A name. He hadn’t realized that he couldn’t use his own name. Internally, he berated himself for such an oversight. He had just started on this quest to regain his honor and he hadn’t even thought about the largest of details.

“Uh.” He bowed to Yozuh, trying to give himself time to think of something. He chose the first name that popped into his head. “Lee.”

Yozuh snorted. “I see your parents weren’t too creative.” Zuko bit back the nasty retort that rose to his lips. Yozuh inclined his head to the ship. “Shall we raise anchor, Lee?”

Zuko blinked. “Already? Should we wait for anyone else?”

Yozuh laughed. “Look, Lee. You just doubled my wages for the week. I don’t need to sit around and wait for any more suckers to come on board.” He began to walk down the plank to the ship. Zuko followed him, slinging his pack back over his shoulder.

“Trust me,” Yozuh said, beginning to untie the ropes that secured the boat to the dock. “No one in their right minds wants to travel to the Earth Kingdom right now.” His brown eyes slipped to Zuko, who was appraising the boat with distaste. “No one except you, anyway.”

They spent some time preparing the ship to leave. This consisted mostly of Yozuh telling Zuko to do simple tasks, almost all of which he’d had to explain twice. This made Zuko even more irritated as time went on. At one point, Yozuh asked Zuko if he’d ever even looked at a ship before, to which Zuko retorted that he knew everything there was to know about the Navy battleships. At this, Yozuh had laughed uproariously, and congratulated him on such a good joke. This annoyed Zuko further.

Eventually, they were able to cast off from the docks and begin their trip across the sea. Zuko stood at the stern of the ship, watching the capital city become smaller and smaller, until it was nothing but a distant speck. When the speck at last disappeared from view, Zuko turned away.

Briefly, part of him wondered if that was the last time he would ever see his home. He immediately squashed the thought. He was going to infiltrate the resistance. He was going to find out their plans. He was going to send word to his father. And then he would burn them down, and regain his honor and his place in his family.

Until then, he could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first story for this particular fandom. I'm very excited about it. My inspiration for this story came to me while I was listening to Hozier's album "Wasteland, Baby!", and the entire story follows the vibe of that album. This chapter is more of a introduction than anything, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.  
> Here's some songs I listened to while writing this: "Devil's Backbone" by The Civil Wars, "This Year" by the Mountain Goats, and "It's Alright" by Mother Mother.


	2. be still my foolish heart

Zuko had originally thought that Hell was the boredom and loneliness he experienced at the palace. He was wrong. Hell was on a tiny boat sailing across the sea with a very talkative man named Yozuh. No matter how rude or mean Zuko was to the man, Yozuh would brush it off or laugh at him, which was definitely the worst of the two. And he couldn’t even use his firebending. Another one of Uncle’s stupid tips.

The only good outcome of the two week long voyage was that his hair had begun to grow back. It was very short and fuzzy, and he kept running his hands over it like he expected it to be longer. And to Yozuh’s credit, he never asked any personal questions. 

When they reached port, Zuko paid Yozuh with the last of his Fire Nation coin. Not out of respect for the man, he told himself. Just so he wouldn’t be caught with Fire Nation currency. Yozuh bowed low to him and wished him well on his journey. Zuko hoped he’d never see the man again.

Uzure was incredibly small for a port. At least, Zuko thought it was. The harbor was really only large enough for a few small boats, and he could already see where the town met the edge of the forest. The people who milled around looked tired and washed out, as though their demeanor matched that of the cloudy sky above them. The air was colder than Zuko was used to, and he took a moment to internally raise his own temperature. It was something Uncle had taught him to do when he was trying to teach Zuko control ( _“It is the most important aspect of firebending, nephew.”_ ). Zuko knew he couldn’t keep it up for too long, however, so the first place he looked for was a clothing shop.

After purchasing slightly warmer traveling clothes in shades of dark green and brown (which, in his opinion, looked entirely horrendous with his skin tone), Zuko threw away his Fire Nation peasant-wear. He then used almost all of the rest of the Earth Kingdom money on a large bag of rice, a pot, a kettle, a bedroll, several kinds of dried fruit and meat, and a very old and tired-looking ostrich horse.

The woman selling the ostrich horse seemed to believe that the old animal was worth a lot more than it actually was. Zuko argued with her over price for way too long, and she finally conceded on a slightly lower price than she originally pitched. As Zuko paid for the creature, he entertained the idea of knocking the woman out and stealing the ostrich horse. Obviously this was too risky to do so early in his journey, but he liked to think about it anyway.

Before leaving the stable, he turned one last time to the woman, who was counting the money he had just given her. “What is the fastest route to Omashu?”

The woman raised an eyebrow at him, shoving the money into an apron pocket. “Why do you want to go there?”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t recall that being your business.”

The woman’s lip curled at the edge. “You’d get a lot further in life if you were a little more polite, young man.”

Zuko wondered if the hardest part of this whole endeavor would be interacting with the stupid peasants he seemed to encounter every single second. But he needed this information, so he bowed in apology. “I’m sorry, m’am.” The words felt dragged from his throat. Zuko was certain his face did not reflect his words. “I am travelling to Omashu for...family.” Well, that was truthful enough.

The woman grunted and grabbed a large stick from the side of a stall. For a moment, Zuko wondered if she was about to hit him, and his hand instinctively crept to the handle of one of his Dao swords. But she didn’t hit him. She used her shoe to clear hay from the dirt, and began to draw.

“There is a path that leads out of the village, to the southwest.” The woman had made a square next to some squiggly lines (perhaps to indicate the sea?) and drew a line from that in the direction described. She then added numerous triangles. “The path leads you into the Kolau Mountains. The path will get smaller, but you mustn’t stray.” She continued the line through the triangles, then made an indent on it. “There is a tunnel here. Do not enter it. Take the path to the right of the entrance, up the mountain. It’s treacherous and steep, but it will get you to Omashu in three days time.” She finished her drawing by trailing the line away from the indent, over the triangles, and finishing it at a giant circle. 

“Why can’t I go through the tunnel?” Zuko asked, annoyed. It sounded like a shortcut.

The woman poked her stick at him. “Haven’t you heard the song? It is dangerous and cursed. No one who goes into the cave comes out alive. Trust me.”

Zuko blinked, and made the decision to do so. He didn’t even want to know what she meant by ‘the song’. “Okay. Thanks.”

The woman nodded. She suddenly looked a little sad. “I had family in Omashu. Once.”

He wasn’t sure why he engaged in the conversation, but he did. “Do they live here now?”

Her face took on a dark shadow. “No. They died when the Fire Nation took over.”

Zuko felt a weird twist in his stomach, but he ignored it. Of course she had family that died in the war. They all did. “I see.” He turned to leave, no longer interested in the conversation, but the woman grabbed his wrist.

“I have heard,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “that Omashu was taken back.” Her eyes sparkled with something like excitement. Feeling something akin to disgust, Zuko tore his wrist away from her grasp.

“Maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” he growled. Then he left the stable, leading the ostrich horse alongside him. He did not look back.

...

It did not take three days to reach Omashu. It took seven. This may have been due to the speed of the ostrich horse (hardly faster than if Zuko had been traveling on foot), or possibly due to the fact that on the fourth day, there was a rainstorm that made it nearly impossible to get anywhere without falling off the side of a cliff. He avoided the entrance to the large, dark tunnel like the ostrich horse-seller had suggested, but began to regret it when he realized how much distance he had to cross to get to Omashu.

Still, on the seventh day, he finally reached the gates of Omashu. It was a much larger city than he had anticipated. It looked like it had been carved from the mountain itself - which Zuko supposed it had. It was an excellently placed and very defensible location - unless you could access it by air. That was how they had gotten Omashu in the first place - using the war balloons. He had to cross a stone bridge on the ostrich horse across a terrifyingly deep chasm. The walls that contained the city were probably nothing compared to the ones surrounding Ba Sing Se, but were still very impressive.

Two guards stood at the gates of the city. They were wearing the armor of Earth Kingdom soldiers, but the armor was old and worn. Still, the two people eyed Zuko with distrust. 

“State your purpose here,” the male guard said. He had taken on an earthbending stance. The female guard did the same.

Zuko dismounted the ostrich horse, and bowed to the two earthbenders. He figured the best way to get inside was to be as direct as possible. “My name is Lee. I’m here to join the resistance.” 

The two guards shared a glance. The man looked Zuko up and down, probably taking in the state of him. Zuko was aware that he was rather dirty and scuffed up from the trek - he had tried bathing in a few mountain streams but they were so cold he really only could rinse himself. He’d also never washed clothes in his entire life, and had really only dipped them in the stream and dried them with his fire bending, which resulted in some burned edges on his already poor quality clothing. There were patches of scruffiness and cuts on his cheeks - the shaving attempts hadn’t gone so well either. He also was significantly skinnier than when he left the palace - he’d never cooked for himself before, so a lot of his meals had been undercooked rice and burned tea. The male guard turned back to his companion. “He’s a refugee,” he muttered.

“So? Since when are we taking in every sad sack that comes to our door?” the woman grumbled back. 

“Pu Xin, look at him,” the man said, lowering his voice further. “Look at his face.” Zuko bit his tongue on the angry comment that rose in his throat.

Pu Xin looked at Zuko again, and something in her expression softened. “Fine. But we’re taking him straight to Sokka. We can’t take any chances.”

Zuko fought to hide the surprise on his face. Were they already taking him to the leader? Sokka did not sound like an Earth Kingdom name. How far did this resistance reach? Zuko supposed he would find out soon enough.

...

The two guards took him inside the city. The man (who Zuko soon found was named Fon) took Zuko’s ostrich horse in the direction of where Zuko guessed stables might be. But he was too busy gawking at the city to care where his mount went.

Omashu was enormous. Not as large as the Fire Nation capital, but at least half that size, which was a sight to behold. Now Zuko understood why his father was so upset that it had been taken back. Buildings spread upwards on a steep incline, poking out of the mountain like a large termite-ant mound. Long ramps spread down the side of the mountain, and Zuko noticed unmanned carts rocketing downwards on some of them. 

But there were also signs of the war. Many buildings were crumpled and abandoned. Entire swaths of the city were charred to black. The city was half steel and half stone - another sign of Fire Nation occupation. But buildings that appeared to be Fire Nation in architecture looked to be the most recently destroyed - some still had small trails of smoke rising from them.

There were not many people in the streets of Omashu. The few people Zuko caught sight of stayed in the doorways of their homes, watching them pass without expression. Many of these people bore injuries. But they did not look afraid - just exhausted. All of these people appeared to be distinctly Earth Kingdom. Zuko couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the people of the Fire Nation who had lived here - had the resistance killed them or driven them out? He found that either answer made a rush of anger flood him. _Traitors._

Pu Xin did not speak to him. She led him by his elbow through the streets. Her grip was strong and slightly painful. In any other circumstance, Zuko would have shaken her off, but it seemed that Pu Xin’s trust was conditional and any false move would give him a one-way ticket into the chasm that surrounded the city.

She took a sharp turn into a building with dark, abandoned windows. Zuko’s heart leaped into his chest and he wondered if she was about to kill him out of sight. His hand twitched towards the dagger hidden in the folds of the sash at his waist. 

But instead of killing him, Pu Xin turned him towards a tunnel that led into the earth. It had obviously been bent there - the tunnel was just the right size to allow two people to walk abreast. Lanterns had been hammered into the side of the wall at slightly unequal intervals. The tunnel eventually opened out into a more clearly defined area that matched the architecture of the city. It smelled terrible.

“Where are we?” Zuko asked, scrunching up his face. Pu Xin shot him an amused look. 

“I’m not at liberty to tell you that yet,” she quipped. “But you get used to the smell soon enough.”

Zuko was not so sure.

They made another sharp turn down a stone hallway. At the end of the hallway was a stone door. Zuko wondered if everything in Omashu was made of stone. Pu Xin opened the door with a sudden gesture of her fist. Zuko almost jumped - it was the first time he had ever witnessed earth bending in person.

Pu Xin pushed Zuko into the room in a not-so-gentle fashion. There was a single chair in the center of the room, but nothing else. Something high up on the wall gave off a strange green glow that partially illuminated the room. The entire place made Zuko feel uneasy.

“Hand over your pack,” Pu Xin said, holding out a hand. Zuko bristled.

“No,” he said, curling his lip. Pu Xin did not look intimidated.

“Give it to me,” she said, “or I’ll take it from you.”

Zuko did not appreciate the threat, but decided this was not a battle he should fight. Pu Xin was definitely stronger than he was at the moment, and probably would have no issue breaking Zuko’s limbs. Or worse. So he handed over the pack. 

“And your weapons.”

He clenched his jaw, but unsheathed the swords at his back and handed them to her. Pu Xin looked at them, impressed. “These are high quality swords.”

“Yes,” Zuko said, the words coming out between closed teeth. She obviously had no idea how to hold them, and shoved one into the belt of her uniform before giving the other a cursory swing. Zuko desperately wanted to tell this untrained Earth Kingdom brute that she was playing with something extremely valuable, but held his tongue. 

She looked at him for a long moment. Then: “Sokka will come talk to you in a moment. I’ll be right outside. Don’t try anything weird, wolfbat.”

Zuko almost lost his temper at that one. He opened his mouth to throw an insult at her, but she was already leaving the room, laughing and shutting the door behind her. Zuko decided he did not like Pu Xin very much.

He spent the next stretch of time pacing the small room. Zuko felt naked without his swords and pack, but felt some relief at the fact that Pu Xin hadn’t frisked him and found his dagger. If anything went wrong, at least he’d have that. After what felt like a very long time, the door opened. Zuko spun to face the newcomer, realizing that he was probably about to meet the leader of the resistance.

It was a man, which was not unexpected. He was decidedly not Earth Kingdom, which was unexpected. He was lean muscled and tall. Some sort of geometric tattoo Zuko had never seen before was wrapped around the man’s bicep. His dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the back of his head, with the hair on the sides of his skull was shorn short. His eyes were a dark, steely blue that contrasted heavily with his dark brown skin. Zuko’s mouth dropped open slightly.

He certainly hadn’t been expecting to be dealing with a member of the Water Tribe.

“So you’re Lee,” the man began. “I’m Sokka.” He brought a fist across his chest. Zuko was still confused about the situation. This wasn’t a situation he had planned for. Weren’t the Water Tribe a bunch of backwards people living in the snow? They had barely even bothered participating in the War - Ozai said they had practically stomped them out of existence, and the Water Tribe people retreated to their ice caves. But this man looked intimidatingly strong - nothing like the cowardly drawings in Zuko’s childhood literature.

Sokka seemed to be waiting for Zuko to do something. Zuko bowed awkwardly. “I’m Lee and I’m here to join the resistance.” He immediately had to stop himself from slapping his forehead. Sokka already mentioned his name.

The Water Tribe man in question raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know.” Zuko desperately hoped that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t noticeable in the darkened room. Sokka indicated the chair. “You wanna sit?”

Zuko wasn’t sure if he wanted to. It would certainly put him at a disadvantage if Sokka decided to attack him. But the man seemed relatively relaxed, standing with his weight on one hip and his arms crossed. So Zuko sat.

“So you’re here to join the resistance,” Sokka said, almost conversationally.

Zuko nodded once.

“Why?”

“Uh.” He really should have prepared for this ahead of time. He was a terrible liar. He had never lied in his life - Azula was the one who lied. He had barely been able to come up with his fake name, let alone a fake story. “I wanted to. For my country.” Zuko found it was easier to come up with something when the words didn’t taste like lies.

Sokka’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t look like someone from the Earth Kingdom.”

Zuko swallowed. That was true - there was nothing he could do to cover up his moon-pale skin and golden eyes, which were distinctly Fire Nation in origin. “My father is from the Fire Nation.” Sokka’s eyes narrowed further. This apparently wasn’t a good answer. Zuko struggled to salvage it. “But my mother isn’t.” That was also technically true - his mother had been born in a Fire Nation colony in the Earth Kingdom.

Sokka still looked suspicious. “Veterans?”

"My father was in the war.”

Sokka sighed. “Mine too.” He leaned back against the wall. It was almost more like a conversation than an interrogation, but Sokka’s gaze was still sharp and probing. “How did you find out about us?”

“Word travels,” Zuko said carefully. “I want to do something important.”

A slight grin pulled up the edge of Sokka’s mouth. “Well, we’re definitely doing something important.”

“Are you the leader of the resistance?” Zuko asked. The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Internally, he smacked himself again. Could he sound any more desperate for information?

But Sokka did something odd. He snorted, and clapped his hand to his mouth. He was laughing. Zuko immediately got angry, assuming that the laughter was at his oh-so-obvious question. “What? Why are you laughing at me?” he said, perhaps with a little too much venom.

Sokka was still snickering. “Chill out, Lee. I’m not laughing at you.” He grinned. “I’m flattered that you thought I was the leader though. I think she’ll get a kick out of that.”

_She?_

Zuko blinked, several questions building on his lips. Who was the leader then? Was she another Water Tribe member? An old Earth Kingdom general? He wracked his brain for notable female Earth Kingdom warriors. 

“I think she’ll like you,” Sokka said. “You’re feisty. Pu Xin was right - you’re totally a wolfbat.”

Zuko’s face heated again, this time with rage. “I’m not a wolfbat!” he yelled.

Sokka laughed. “Oh, you are so totally a wolfbat. Hold on, I’ll go grab our ‘glorious leader’.” He knocked on the door three times, and it slid open. Sokka stepped out and said something to Pu Xin, but Zuko didn’t catch it before the door closed once more.

Zuko stood up from the chair and started pacing again. The inflection Sokka had used when talking about the leader of the resistance was casual, which implied that either their hierarchy was fluid or this place wasn’t as organized as he’d thought. Which was a good thing. It made it easier to take down.

When the door opened again several minutes later, Zuko wasn’t sure what to expect. Part of him was ready to see a war-hardened general with steel gray hair and the build of an Earth Bender. Or maybe, like Sokka, she was of the Water Tribe. But didn’t the Water Tribe not allow their women to hold positions of power? It was impossible to determine. But the woman who followed Sokka through the door was almost the exact opposite of what he expected to see.

She was small - she probably only came up to Zuko’s shoulder, if that. She had the same lean-muscled build as Sokka, and the same deep brown skin. Her hair was tied back into a long, dark braid, with two strands draping down on either side of her face. Her eyes were a brilliant, terrifying blue. Her face was set with an intensity that he hadn’t seen in Sokka’s expression. Most shocking of all, she was young. She looked his sister’s age.

Zuko blinked. His mouth had fallen open again. This woman radiated power. Not in the same way Azula did - but in a way that made Zuko’s eyes draw to her, unable to look away. Her eyes burned into him, practically pinning him to the spot.

“So this is your latest recruit,” she said. It took a moment for Zuko to realise she was talking to Sokka.

“I like him,” Sokka said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall again. “He’s zesty.”

The woman rolled her eyes. As soon as her gaze was off of him, Zuko let out a breath. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it. “I’m Lee. I want to join the resistance.”

“He said that to me too,” Sokka said, nudging the woman. “Like, exactly that. So desperate to join the cool kids, huh?”

The woman did not crack a smile. “Sokka, please. We know nothing about him.”

“Not true,” Sokka said. “His name is Lee and he wants to join the resistance.”

“I do,” Zuko cut in, not enjoying being the subject of a conversation he was not a part of. “I understand you’re the leader.”

The woman had returned her piercing gaze to him. “Yes, I guess you could say that. Sokka told me you’re a refugee.”

Zuko swallowed. “Yes.”

She was silent for a moment. Then: “Where did you get that scar?”

“Katara!” Sokka hissed. “Kinda rude, don’t you think?”

Normally Zuko would agree and probably say something nasty, but he was too busy thinking about the name. _Katara_. That was important information. He stowed it away for later.

“It’s a burn scar,” Katara said, ignoring the man next to her. “And an old one. Did you get it from a firebender?”

Zuko did not like to talk about his scar. He didn’t like to think about it or look at it either. It was a horrible reminder of the worst day of his life. But for the first time, Zuko realized it could be an advantage. “Yes. It’s from a firebender.”

“Can you still see from that eye?”

“Kind of. I can see shapes and light but it’s blurry.”

“Does it hinder your fighting ability?”

“I’ve learned to work around it.”

Sokka looked like he wanted to interject, but Katara continued.

“And your ear. Can you hear out of it?”

“It’s fine. The outside is just disfigured.” Unconsciously, his hand had floated up to touch the scarred part of his face. Zuko quickly forced it back down.

“When did you get it?” Katara continued. Zuko realized he knew how to play this card - despite how much it embarrassed him to do so. He knew exactly what reaction he would get to his answer. And although he hated to be pitied, Zuko knew it would make him more sympathetic - and thus, more trustworthy.

Still, he turned his gaze to the ground. “I was thirteen.”

The woman said nothing. Sokka let out a small gasp, followed by: “Spirits. Just a kid.”

Zuko’s gaze flicked back up to Katara. To his surprise, she did not seem very fazed. “A lot of bad things happen to children these days,” she murmured.

Zuko had no idea what to say to that.

Katara blinked and continued as if nothing had happened to derail her questioning. “Are you an earth bender?”

“No.”

“But you can fight?”

“Yes. Your guard took my swords away.”

Sokka’s eyebrows raised. “Those are yours? They’re so cool!”

Katara sent an elbow into the man’s stomach. They must be close to each other, judging by how they acted. They were probably from the same tribe. Zuko knew there were multiple tribes, but had no idea how to differentiate between them.

“Did you steal them?”

“What?” Zuko said, jolting up at the accusation. “Of course not! I forged them myself!” That was entirely true - Master Piandao insisted that all of his students forge their own weapons at the end of their training with him.

Katara’s eyes narrowed. “They’re excellent quality. And you look like a street urchin.”

Zuko’s temper flared. “The reason I look like this,” he snarled, indicating his clothes, “is because I have traveled _hundreds of miles_ to get here! And I’m sick of people telling me how terrible I look! _I’m aware!_ ” Katara was staring at him when he finished, eyes wide. Sokka had a similar mask of surprise - he kept glancing between Zuko and Katara like he expected something to happen. Zuko faintly realized that somewhere along the line, he had started yelling. His heart immediately dropped to his feet. Here he was, face-to-face with his last chance to redeem himself in the eyes of his father, and his stupid temper had ruined it for him _again_ -

His train of thought was interrupted when Katara started to laugh. It was a high, tinkly sound that made Zuko’s face heat up for some reason. She turned to Sokka, who also looked very surprised. “Wow,” she said between giggles. “You were so right about the wolfbat thing!”

Sokka’s face cracked into a huge smile. “Right? He’ll bite anyone’s head off!”

Zuko’s blush deepened. He had never liked nicknames. He was not about to start. “I’m not a wolfbat,” he muttered. But the fight had gone out of him. He mostly felt relief.

“You are definitely a wolfbat,” Katara said, still grinning. “And a very interesting person.” She stepped forward, and without warning, took hold of Zuko’s right forearm with her right hand. Her grip was strong, but her fingers were soft. _She must not work with weapons_ , Zuko thought. _A waterbender?_

“Welcome to the resistance, Lee,” Katara said. “Let’s get you settled.”

…

It seemed that the majority of the resistance was living beneath the city. Zuko was almost surprised that the group was still acting like they were hiding - after all, they had taken back an _entire_ city. But instead of living above ground in said city, they were all clustered in the sewer like rats. And although this disgusted him, Zuko could see a battle strategy when there was one. They didn’t want the Fire Nation to know anything about them or their operation.

Zuko grinned inwardly at this.

What Zuko hadn’t been expecting was the sheer amount of people behind this. Sure, they probably had to have a large number of people backing them in order to take over an entire occupied city, but there were at least a hundred people down here, if not more. A significant amount of them were wearing Earth Kingdom soldier garments. What was most interesting of all was the fact that a lot of these people looked really young. Zuko hadn’t been expecting a bunch of old people running the place, but he was still unsettled to find that a lot of the people who passed him were close to his age.

Pu Xin had given him back his satchel and his swords and “welcomed him to the crew” by punching him in the shoulder. Then Katara and Sokka had led him out of the darkened hallways and into a large, open area. Stone steps and bridges zigzagged across the walls and over a sluggish stream of dank water. Tents had been set up wherever there was flat space, and Zuko could faintly smell something cooking over the stench of the sewer.

“The bunks are this way,” Katara said, gesturing to a rather large, patched up tent on one of the higher ledges. They had already walked up a long set of damp stairs (Zuko had almost fallen at least three times, which made Sokka laugh at him) and now had to cross a small stone bridge. As they were crossing, Zuko heard the sound of rocks crashing together below him. He paused, leaning against the bridge wall and looking down at the commotion.

At the lowest part of the sewer, right next to that horrible smelly stream, was a circle. Inside of it, two earth benders appeared to be sparring with each other. One of them brought up an enormous wall of stone, but the other countered by thrusting a hand forward, dislodging the part of the stone that would have hit them and sending it flying at their opponent. Some people were scattered on the outskirts of the circle, cheering the fighters on.

“It’s a great spot for sparring, huh?” Sokka said, leaning over next to Zuko and watching the match. “Now that we don’t need to be quiet anymore, they can get a little more brawl-y.”

“We don’t brawl here, Sokka,” Katara corrected, coming up on the other side of Zuko. “We spar. They’re sparring.”

One of the earthbenders tried to make a quick, evasive move to the right as the other one struck a stance. But the column of rock came up in the exact spot the evading bender anyway, and they were sent flying in the opposite direction. A raucous cry came up from the audience. 

“Tell that to Toph,” Sokka snickered. “I think she stopped holding back.”

Katara let out a bark of laughter. “Sokka, that implies she held back in the first place.”

Zuko watched the winner of the match - Toph - raise her hands up in victory. He wanted to ask more about her and the sparring ring, but Sokka and Katara had continued on their way to the bunks. Zuko pushed off the wall and followed them.

The bunks were exactly as Zuko expected - various cots and bedrolls spread haphazardly across the stone floor. There weren’t too many people inside, considering it was the middle of the day, but there were still a few here and there. Zuko took in the scene, not too happy about the fact that he’d still be sleeping on the ground for the near future. 

Katara must have caught the scowl on his face. “You don’t have to sleep in here if you don’t want to,” she said. “You can sleep wherever. This is just the warmest.”

Zuko tried to relax his face. “This is fine.”

Katara was already looking around the room, as if she hadn’t heard him. Finally, her eyes landed on their target. “Hey, Jet! C’mere a sec.”

Zuko turned to see who Katara had been talking to. At the edge of the tent, a tall man was standing and holding one hooked sword. He seemed to be in the process of cleaning it. Zuko hadn’t noticed him when he’d entered the tent - he practically blended in with the shadows. At Katara’s beckoning, he tucked the sword into the back of his belt and sauntered toward them.

“This is Jet,” Katara said as the man in question came close enough. “He can show you around.”

Zuko was not so sure. Jet looked very intimidating - not only was he taller than Zuko, but he was broader. His skin was the deep tan of someone from the western Earth Kingdom, and his eyes were such a dark brown they were practically black. He had a thick, messy thatch of dark brown hair that cast a shadow over his face. Jet did not seem impressed by Zuko - he gave the other man a brief once over and then made a loud _tsk_ sound. Zuko noted with disgust that Jet had a stalk of wheat in his mouth.

“Who’s this guy?” Jet asked, apparently unimpressed. Zuko gave Jet an equally haughty sneer. He wasn’t about to be stepped over by some gross Earth Kingdom peasant.

“This is Lee,” Sokka said, putting an arm around Zuko’s shoulders. Zuko tensed. How many times was he going to be touched today, anyway?

“Could you make sure he settles in?” Katara asked. She didn’t seem to be Jet’s biggest fan - her voice held a note of annoyance. “Please.”

Jet switched the wheat to the other side of his teeth. “He looks like a foreigner.”

Zuko was about to retort with _“at least I don’t go around chewing grass like an ostrich horse”_ but Sokka beat him to it.

“Spirits, Jet. Everyone in this conversation but you look foreign. And Zuko’s half-Earth Kingdom anyway.” Sokka now also looked rather annoyed. Jet shrugged.

“I’m just sayin’. It’s not everyday you see golden eyes.” His posture was loose, but Jet’s voice and gaze held something dark. Zuko suppressed a shiver. A tense silence settled between them. 

Katara clapped her hands together, breaking it. “Jet, all I’m asking is you show him around. I think you guys might have some things in common.”

Sokka snickered. “Yeah, they’re both grouchy and like playing with swords.”

Katara rolled her eyes. “Those are definitely two things.” She put her hand on Sokka’s shoulder, coaxing him in the direction of the exit. “We’ve got things to do. Don’t kill each other please.”

“Later, wolfbat!” Sokka said, giving Zuko a mock salute. Zuko chose not to return it. The two Water Tribe people left the tent, heads bent together in conversation. Zuko watched them go, and nervousness began to creep along his skin. He turned back to see Jet looking at him with those deep, dark eyes.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Wolfbat?”

Zuko scowled. “They’re making fun of me for losing my temper.”

To his surprise, Jet grinned at that. “Nah, nah. It’s a nickname. I like nicknames.”

Zuko was still unsure if he should fully be trusting this man. “Is...Jet a nickname?”

Jet shrugged one shoulder and smirked. “Who’s to say?” His eyes flicked to the Dao swords strapped on Zuko’s back. “Cool swords.”

Zuko eyed the two swords tucked behind Jet’s waist. They were hook swords - not a very common choice of weapon. Both ends looked wickedly sharp. “Yours too.”

Jet’s smirk turned into a full grin. Zuko couldn’t tell if it was friendly or not. “Wanna spar, Wolfbat?”

...

Jet led the way down the winding stone steps to the sparring ring, which had been cleared since the last fight. There was still some crumpled stone at the edges of the circle indicative of the earth bending battle that had last taken place. A small group of people, all Zuko’s age or younger, were huddled nearby, having a lively conversation. When Jet stepped off the stairs, one of them caught sight of him. Almost immediately, the entire group ran up to them, all talking at once. Zuko took a step backwards up the stairs, decidedly regretting his choice to take up Jet on his offer.

“You’re back!” A small, skinny person with bushy brown hair said, practically beaming with excitement. 

“You missed the last match, Jet,” another person, this time an extremely large man, butted in. “It was awesome. Toph kicked ass.” On his shoulders was a rather small and very young looking boy - probably no more than eleven. This boy’s gaze immediately landed on Zuko, and he jabbed a finger at him.

“Who’s that?”

Suddenly, the entire group was looking at him. Zuko’s face reddened, and he tipped his face down and away. He didn’t like having so many people staring at him at once.

“That’s Wolfbat,” Jet supplied, using one of his hook swords to indicate Zuko. Zuko’s head shot up.

“No, it’s not!” he snapped. “My name is Lee!”

Jet just scoffed. “I think you’re Wolfbat.”

Zuko was about to start the match early and wipe that stupid smirk off of Jet’s face. But before he could, the person with the messy hair stepped forward. 

“I’m Smellerbee. And before you ask, yes, I’m a girl,” she said. Zuko privately thought that was the worst name he’d ever heard. Smellerbee indicated the people around, introducing all of them with equally silly names. Zuko didn’t remember all of them - he was too busy focusing on how dirty all of them looked. When was the last time any of them bathed?

“Are you guys gonna spar?” the young boy asked. Zuko vaguely remembered his name being ‘The Duke’.

“My money’s on Jet,” the giant man said. His stupid name was easy to remember because it was so incredibly strange: Pipsqueak.

“I dunno,” Smellerbee said, eyeing Zuko’s Dao swords. “Wolfbat’s got some pretty nice weaponry.” Beside her, a stone-faced man Zuko had definitely forgotten the name of gave the tiniest of nods.

Jet jerked his head toward the ring. “Well, Wolfbat? Should we get this started or what?”

Zuko looked around at all the people. He considered himself a pretty good fighter, but had never been one for fighting in front of crowds. Not since the Agni Kai.

He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. This wasn’t the Agni Kai. It was just a bunch of smelly peasants who wanted to see how he fought. He could handle that. When Zuko opened his eyes, he drew his swords and stepped into the circle. The group began to chatter excitedly, arranging themselves around the ring in order to get the best view.

Jet began to slowly circle him, twisting his hook swords around and around in his grip. Zuko mirrored him, trying to imagine that he was in the palace gardens with Piandao and not in a stinking sewer hundreds of miles from home. Jet’s eyes were focused fully on Zuko’s, still dark as night and unreadable. Then, without warning, he struck like a viper cat, his hook sword lashing out and catching the heel of Zuko’s boot. Jet pulled it back, taking Zuko’s foot out from underneath him. Zuko stumbled, but was able to catch himself before falling.

“Get ‘im, Jet!” Pipsqueak called from the edge of the ring. A round of cheers followed. Zuko gritted his teeth, embarrassed. He leaped forward, swinging his crossed swords over his head to bring both of them down over Jet’s head. Jet countered with both of his hook swords - they clashed together in front of his face. More cheers. While Zuko’s swords had the advantage of being stronger, Jet could move his swords quicker. Zuko tried to bring his swords apart again, but found Jet had brought the hooks of his weapons around the thick end of his blades and was pulling them apart, crossing Zuko’s arms further. Deciding to go with it instead of his original plan, Zuko jumped upwards into the air and twisted, landing deftly on his feet with Jet’s back to him. The other man spun, looking surprised. Zuko couldn’t help but feel a small grin on his face.

They began to circle each other again. Jet was looking a lot less playful now - his brow was drawn down over his eyes and his lips had pulled up over his teeth. He tried to use the hook part of his sword on Zuko’s foot again, but this time he saw it coming and jumped over it.

“Maybe your name should have been ‘Rabaroo’,” Jet said between breaths. Without waiting for Zuko to say something, he swung outwards with one of his swords - coming uncomfortably close to slashing Zuko’s cheek. Several ‘oooh’s’ echoed from the gathered crowd.

“Maybe yours should have been ‘Ostrich horse’,” he growled. He lunged forward, swinging his sword just in front of Jet’s face. Jet leaned back, but not before the wheat stalk in his mouth was slashed in two pieces. More uproar from the crowd. Zuko could feel his heart beating excitedly in his chest - suddenly it didn’t matter that there were so many people watching. In fact, he was certain that more had arrived to watch the show. And a show he would give them.

Jet was using the length of his weapons to his advantage, and that made it difficult for Zuko to land any hits on him. So he continued to leap around the other man, parrying the strikes and trying to throw in a few of his own. Jet seemed to be getting frustrated.

“Where’d you learn to fight, Wolfbat?” he huffed, spinning to try and catch Zuko’s elbow and disarm him. Zuko ducked under the weapon and came back up with both swords, attempting to smash through the defense of his other hook sword. But Jet was strong and a talented fighter, and he pushed Zuko off of him.

“Been training all my life,” he said breathlessly. He began looking for a way to get around to Jet’s other side - he wasn’t as flexible as Zuko was and couldn’t turn as quickly. Jet was watching him closely. He’d spat out the rest of the wheat stalk and was now fully glaring at his opponent. 

“In the Fire Nation?” Jet challenged. This accusation threw Zuko through a loop for a moment, and Jet took that moment and hooked both swords around Zuko’s shoulders, sending him flying headfirst into the air. Zuko hissed as the hooks retreated, tearing the sleeves of his clothes and leaving small wounds. He’d managed to land on his feet again, which was good, because Zuko was sure if he had landed on his back - or worse, his neck - he would have been injured.

Instead of answering Jet’s challenge, Zuko threw himself forward, acting like he was going to attack Jet’s face again. When Jet came up to block the swords, Zuko faked him out and ducked under his elbow, slithering up to be directly behind Jet’s back. Jet tried to get him with the hooks of his swords again, but quickly realized that his weapons were too long for such close combat. 

“What makes you think I’m Fire Nation?” Zuko snarled in Jet’s ear. He was trying to land another hit on the man, but Jet had started using the spearheads at the end of his swords to fight, so he was focusing on making sure they didn’t hit him in the face.

“You stink like Fire Nation,” Jet hissed back. With a yell, Zuko forgoed the swords entirely and kicked out at Jet, using the man’s back as a springboard. The breath was knocked from his opponent’s lungs, and he fell forward. 

Jet landed on his knees, and he immediately swung a sword to try and catch Zuko with the hook. But Zuko was ready for it. He jabbed his own sword into the dirt, catching the hook. Zuko pulled back, yanking the weapon from Jet’s hand.

Jet attempted to get back on his feet, but Zuko lunged forward and stepped on the long part of the last hook sword. He brought his Dao blade up to Jet’s throat, and the fight was brought to an end. He’d won.

Zuko was distantly aware of the loud cheering surrounding him, but he was focused on Jet’s face. The man looked more surprised than anything - like he’d never lost a fight until now. Zuko couldn’t remember when he started mentally referring to the sparring session as a fight, but there was no doubt in his mind that that was what it had been. He stared down into Jet’s face.

“I win,” he said. Jet stared back just as intensely. Zuko wondered if the man was going to continue to try fighting him. But then his face relaxed, and Jet grinned.

“Wow,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting such a match. Good fight, Wolfbat.” Jet extended one hand upward toward Zuko. Zuko eyed it warily. He wasn’t sure if the man was just going to pull him down into the dirt with him. Still, he lowered his sword, sheathed it on his back, and grabbed Jet’s large, calloused hand to help him stand.

Jet did not drag Zuko down to the ground, instead, when he was on his feet, he slung his arm around Zuko’s shoulders and turned to the others. “Guys! Did you see that?”

For the first time, Zuko looked back at the crowd. There were at least three times as many people as there had been when the match had started, all of them cheering and talking excitedly. Someone began to chant “Wolfbat, Wolfbat!” and the crowd took it up almost immediately.

Zuko blinked. He’d never had anyone cheer for him before. Jet was squeezing his shoulder tightly, chanting just as loudly as the rest. Zuko swallowed, eyes flickering over the crowd. They landed on a blue-clad figure at the back of the throng. To his surprise, Katara was watching. A sudden, strange burst of fear bloomed in him that she would kick him out for fighting. But once again, she did something that caught him offguard.

She caught his eyes and grinned. She mouthed something that Zuko could just barely make out: _“Nice moves, Wolfbat.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some songs I listened to while writing this: "The Recluse" by Cursive, "Hang Me Up to Dry" by The Cold War Kids, "Grapevine Fires" by Death Cab for Cutie, and "You're a Wolf" by Seawolf (lol).


	3. a call to motion

Finding out information about the resistance was turning out to be a much harder endeavor than Zuko thought it would be. Jet and his little group of Earth Kingdom peasant fans almost never left Zuko’s side. It was as though they had decided he would now be a member of their group, and their group did absolutely _everything_ together. They slept in a pile in the bunks, crowding Zuko and messing with his things. They ate every single meal together, sitting in a tight circle just outside the mess tent or wherever Zuko tried to sit by himself. The last straw was when Zuko attempted to bathe himself with a cool tub of what apparently passed for clean water in this hellhole and Pipsqueak and the Duke decided to _bathe with him_.

Since then, he had been doing his best to avoid the group and any of his members. He wasn’t always successful - Jet seemed to have a knack for seeking him out and pulling him into some inane group activity. Zuko wasn’t even sure if they knew what his “real” name was - they all just referred to him as Wolfbat. He stopped trying to correct them the second day. He just endured their endless annoying habits and tried not to lose his temper too often.

On the fourth frustrating day of living in the sewers and learning absolutely nothing about the resistance’s future plans, Zuko decided he needed to be more proactive. It had been almost a month since he’d left the Fire Nation, and his father would probably be expecting an update soon. He decided to start with Jet - he appeared knowledgeable enough and seemed very keen on pounding the Fire Nation to the ground (considering he mentioned it every chance he got).

Zuko waited until Jet separated from the group. He sometimes went up to the city to ‘take walks’, but Zuko was not so sure that this was what Jet’s real intention was. The rest of the group never offered to join, and never tried to convince him to do something else with them. They just nodded respectfully, like Jet was going off on an important mission rather than a walk in the open air.

“Where does he go?” Zuko asked, watching Jet disappear into a tunnel on the side of the wall. The group all exchanged glances with each other. Smellerbee stepped closer to Zuko, angling herself so she could whisper into his ear. Zuko stopped himself from recoiling at her breath.

“He’s patrolling the city,” she hissed. “For Fire Nation soldiers.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “I thought you guys got rid of the Fire Nation here.”

Smellerbee shrugged. “We did. But Jet isn’t so sure. He said that fire benders could be hiding anywhere. So he goes and patrols the city and looks for them.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. That fit with what he understood about Jet. The man was obsessed. Whenever anything having to do with the Fire Nation was mentioned in his presence, Jet would go on long, angry rants. Zuko had learned to tune them out. Just another peasant on the wrong side of the war.

“Do you guys think there’s firebenders in Omashu?”

The group exchanged another round of glances between each other. The Duke scratched the back of his skinny neck, looking guilty.

“Not really,” he said. The others nodded. “But Jet...he just wants to be sure.”

“Is that why you don’t go with him?” Zuko pressed.

“We would,” Pipsqueak rumbled. “But he doesn’t like us to. He says we slow him down.”

Zuko could certainly agree with that. He glanced over at the tunnel Jet had disappeared to. “I’m going to see where he went.”

No one stopped him, but they didn’t seem too happy about it.

...

Zuko spent several hours wandering around the city, trying to find any trace of Jet. He didn’t want to bring too much attention to himself, so he mostly kept to the shadows. Eventually he decided that Jet might be the type of person to watch people from rooftops, considering he owned hook swords and frequently used them to climb things. So Zuko scrambled up the side of a building, trying to ignore the questioning looks several Omashu citizens gave him.

The roofs of Omashu were tall and tiled, somewhat similar to Fire Nation roofs. Zuko made his way around the edges of the rooftops, keeping an eye open for any sign of Jet. He lost his balance a few times, but never fell off the roof. Part of him was very thankful of the fact that it hadn’t recently rained.

He finally spotted Jet in the shadow of what appeared to be either a bell tower or some kind of shrine. There was an open area beneath the steep roof supported by pillars, and Jet was crouched next to one of the pillars. Zuko jumped off the roof he was currently on and landed with a roll into the shadowed area.

Jet barely reacted to his presence. He threw a cursory glance over his shoulder to see who it was, then went back to whatever had originally had his attention. It was indeed a bell tower they were sitting in - but instead of a bell there was a large gong and a giant stone hammer extending from the ceiling. It was probably a relic from before the Fire Nation occupation - when earthbenders would have used it. There was a hatch next to the gong, but it looked disused. The whole area was very dusty.

Zuko approached Jet and kneeled next to him. He tried to follow Jet’s gaze, and found it focused on two men who appeared to be operating some sort of shop. One of the men was sweeping outside with a broom and talking to the other man, who was sitting at a counter.

“I’ve been watching them for a week,” Jet said softly. Zuko turned to look at him. He was tense and serious, face holding that same dark look Zuko had seen the day they met. “I think they’re Fire Nation.”

To Zuko, they looked like two regular shopkeepers. Their skin was slightly paler than the average Earth Kingdom citizen, and one of the men had his topknot secured with a red tie. But other than that, they just looked like run-of-the-mill peasants.

“Maybe they’re colonists,” Zuko muttered. “They don’t look military to me.”

Jet’s eyes narrowed. “Like that’s any better.”

Zuko was taken aback. “What do you mean? Colonists haven’t been involved in Fire Nation conquests for almost a hundred years. They’re basically Earth Kingdom citizens at this point.”

Jet spat onto the ground below them. “The Fire Nation invades the Earth Kingdom, kills its people, and puts its own in their place. They’re no better than a plague. And plagues need to be eradicated.”

Zuko felt a shiver at Jet’s words. If he had any idea who Zuko really was, he was certain he would be dead where he stood. “What’s your problem?” Zuko asked, too disturbed to use any tact.

Jet finally pulled his gaze away from the shopkeepers to look at Zuko. He was angry. “My problem,” he growled, “is that I know one to many Earth Kingdom children who have seen their families burn alive. My problem is that I hear the same story over and over from everyone around me: the Fire Nation saw what they wanted, and they _took_.”

Zuko didn’t know what to say to that. So he didn’t say anything. He turned his gaze back to the shopkeepers. They were laughing about something. He felt sick to his stomach.

But this was war. And war had casualties. He couldn’t feel sorry for people of the Earth Kingdom who were simply caught up in the wave. Ozai would have said that they deserved it, that they had to learn their place in this new empire. A month ago, Zuko would have agreed without a second thought. Now…

He looked over at Jet. The man had pulled a small knife out of his boot and was turning it over and over in his hands. He still looked angry, but it didn’t appear to be directed at Zuko. “You should know,” Jet said, his voice quiet. “You should know what it feels like to be hurt by the Fire Nation.”

Zuko brought his fingers up to brush the edge of his scar. He couldn’t find any words to disagree. Jet placed the knife he was holding between them. Zuko’s eyebrows raised - the knife was decidedly Fire Nation in make, with an ornamental red hilt and traditional Fire Nation script engraved on the blade.

Jet hooked his fingers into his tight sleeve, pulling it back to reveal the tan skin of his lower forearm. To Zuko’s horror, it was marred with a leathery red burn - in the distinct shape of a handprint.

“They hurt me too,” Jet said, quietly. His eyes were like dark pebbles. “Never again.”

Zuko spent the next hour with Jet in silence, watching the shopkeepers.

...

Later that day, back in the sewer, Zuko went looking for a different source for information. After Jet had shown him his burn, Zuko felt sick about the idea of exploiting him for information to give to his father. Some might call it weakness - Azula certainly would - but Zuko tried to placate these thoughts by telling himself that Jet probably didn’t know any future resistance plans anyway. He was too focused on Omashu.

Zuko’s next idea was to seek out one of the Water Tribe siblings. He had learned they were brother and sister from an offhand comment by Smellerbee, and some part of that distantly made sense. Zuko knew that siblings were supposed to be closer than he and his sister were, or his uncle and father. Katara and Sokka, however, almost never left each other’s sides. Every time he caught sight of either of them it was a good chance that the other one was nearby. Zuko wondered how they didn’t get sick of each other.

So Zuko wandered around the camp, trying to catch that telltale flash of blue. There didn’t seem to be any other Water Tribesmen in the resistance, which wasn’t terribly surprising. There was a long history of raids on the Water Tribes - particularly the south pole, which had almost no defenses to speak of. Over time, their people had dwindled to a small number that kept closely to themselves. Ozai said they weren’t a threat. Zuko wondered what he’d think when he found out who was in charge of this particular thorn in his side.

He became distracted by what appeared to be a very lively match occurring in the sparring ring. There were a large number of people cheering, and the loud crash of rock indicated an earthbender being involved. Zuko liked watching the earthbenders fight - their style was similar to firebending in the amount of power it generated. He figured that finding Katara or Sokka could wait, and pushed his way into the crowd.

Zuko had been expecting to see two earthbenders going at it. They were really the only benders down here anyway, and that one girl (was it Tosh? Toph?) was often putting on quite a spectacle with her unmatched bending skills. But instead, there was an earthbender he had seen once or twice in the ring, and a familiar woman clad in blue.

Katara was standing with her legs apart and knees bent, her arms raised in a somewhat relaxed form. Around her, a large amount of greenish water hovered, moving in tune with the shape of her body. Zuko felt his heart stutter in his chest.

_She really is a waterbender._

Never in his life had he expected to see one. Azula had told him that they were probably all dead or hiding like the cowards they were. When he’d asked Uncle about them, Iroh had seemed sad.

“Such a sight to behold,” he’d murmured, dipping his head. “I studied with them once, you know.”

Zuko had scrunched up his face. “Father says they’re weak, and their bending is ornamental at best.”

Iroh had shook his head. “Never underestimate a waterbender, nephew. They are more adaptable than any other.”

Zuko watched with barely disguised awe as Katara made a sudden, graceful move with her arm, sending a large portion of water at the earthbender across from her. He blocked it by bringing a large stone shield from the ground, and the water splashed harmlessly against it. But Katara was not finished. With another graceful movement of her hand, the water on the stone shield turned into ice, shattering the stone into pieces as it expanded in the cracks.

The earthbender was not deterred by this, however. With a quick, strong push, he sent the rock shards shooting at Katara. She immediately brought up a wall of ice with the water that had been streaming around her, and the stones embedded themselves in the sheet. With a long, swooping motion of her arm, Katara brought forth a long rope of water from the canal beside the ring. She used this to strike out at the earthbender as the ice wall melted. He had to dodge to the side, taking his feet out of their strong stance on the floor.

 _That’s right_ , Zuko thought to himself, more engaged in this battle than any other he had ever witnessed. _Break his root. ___

__The earthbender struck a new bending stance and brought his fist upwards. A large chunk of stone erupted from the ground and into the air. He sent it hurting towards Katara. The waterbender jumped out of the way, light on her feet. Zuko was struck by how much her bending looked like a dance. With a spin, she flicked her hand and the damp ground beneath the earthbender’s feet turned into ice. He immediately began to slip, desperately trying to regain his footing so he could bend properly again._ _

__Katara did not wait. Instead, she raised her arms and brought an enormous wave from the canal. It rushed around her, not even leaving a drop of water on her clothing, and consumed the struggling earthbender. With one more slow, sweeping movement, the wave turned into ice. The man was entirely frozen, only his head above the ice._ _

__The crowd cheered and clapped. Katara gave them a small bow, and then released her opponent from the ice. He fell clumsily back to the ground, looking thoroughly beaten. She walked over to him and extended a hand._ _

__“Thanks for a good match, Haru,” she said, helping the man to his feet. He shook his head, laughing._ _

__“Good match? You thoroughly kicked my ass.” He was grinning though, and bowed low to her. “Maybe one day I’ll last more than ten minutes.”_ _

__Katara laughed at that. The sound made Zuko’s chest tighten for some reason._ _

__“Hey, at least I give you a chance to fight,” she said, smiling. “I think Toph usually ends hers in three moves.”_ _

__The crowd had begun to disperse around them now that the match was over. But Zuko remained, staring at her. She hardly had a hair out of place. Haru was soaking wet and still breathing hard. Katara seemed to have barely broken a sweat._ _

__Katara and Haru bowed to each other again, and the earthbender walked away - probably to dry himself off. Katara gathered the water that had spread across the ground into a large, rippling bubble, and deposited it back into the canal. She looked up and met Zuko’s eyes._ _

__“Lee,” she said, apparently surprised at his presence. She looked around. “Do you need something?” Zuko suddenly realized everyone else had left, and he was just standing here staring at her. His face heated with embarrassment, and he cleared his throat._ _

__“Uhm.” Why was he here again? “I saw your fight with the earthbender.”_ _

__She raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t a fight. We were sparring.”_ _

__“Right.” For some reason, all the words he knew seemed to have fled his head. Katara looked at him expectantly. “You...um...spar really well.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Zuko wanted to smack himself. She already knew that - she’d won the match!_ _

__But Katara didn’t immediately berate him for the stupid comment. Instead, she smiled. “Thank you.”_ _

__“I’ve never seen a waterbender fight before,” Zuko said, the words tumbling from his mouth. Katara’s smile immediately fled her face, and Zuko inwardly kicked himself._ _

__“You probably haven’t,” she said, face impassive. “There aren’t very many of us left.”_ _

__The words hung between them, heavy in the air. Zuko desperately scrambled in his mind to find something else to say. He didn’t want to offend her again. He told himself this was because he still needed information from her, and if she didn’t want to talk to him that would make things significantly more difficult. “My uncle studied with waterbenders,” he said at last._ _

__Katara’s expression immediately opened up again. “He did?” she said. “When?”_ _

__Zuko swallowed. He hadn’t expected her to be so interested. Inwardly, he thanked his uncle for his never-ending talk about the travels of his youth. “He was young. It was probably forty years ago.”_ _

__Katara had walked closer to him. Her blue eyes seemed to be searching his face, like the answers she wanted were hidden there. “Can you tell me any more?” she asked, her voice like a breath. Zuko blinked, taken aback. Didn’t she already know everything about her people? She displayed mastery in her bending, and that didn’t usually happen in isolation._ _

__“I can try,” he said, feeling confused. Katara smiled at him, and his heart skipped in his chest._ _

__“Would you like to have some tea in my tent?” Katara asked. “We can talk better there.”_ _

__Zuko’s eyebrows shot up. Half of him knew that this was the perfect chance to get some intel from the leader of the resistance he was focused on taking down. The other half of him was panicking about the fact that a girl had just invited him to spend time with her alone. He desperately tried to stomp out that half. _It’s not like that_ , he chastised himself. _You’re just being stupid.__ _

__But he found himself nodding, and Katara told him to follow her. They began to make their way up in the direction of the mess tent. As Zuko followed her, he began to fight with himself about how his body was reacting to this situation. It was extremely inappropriate that his heart should be beating so quickly, and that his mouth should be so dry. It wasn’t that Zuko was _entirely_ inexperienced with people he found attractive - one of his sister’s friends had taken pity on him in their teenage years. But Mai had moved to Ba Sing Se when Azula did, and he had been alone since then. There weren’t many people who wanted to be involved with a disgraced prince._ _

__Katara took him up a narrow set of stairs, past the mess tent. It led up to a tunnel that was shot through with strange, glowing green crystals. Zuko followed Katara down it, suddenly feeling slightly claustrophobic. Why did she sleep so far away from everyone else?_ _

__Zuko heard the roar of the waterfall before he saw it. The tunnel suddenly opened up into an enormous cavern, where a huge waterfall exploded from the ceiling and disappeared into the darkness at the bottom of the cavern. Katara’s tent was set up on the ledge next to the tunnel entrance. Zuko briefly wondered how she could sleep in here with the constant noise of falling water, but quickly discarded the thought. Of course she didn’t mind - she was a waterbender. Katara opened the tent flap and stepped inside, beckoning Zuko in after her. Zuko followed, tamping down on the heartbeat in his throat._ _

__She lit a small lantern with her spark rocks, illuminating the rest of the tent. Zuko blinked in surprise - it was rather disorganized. There was an unkempt bedroll in the corner, surrounded by several half-unfurled scrolls. A low wooden table was at the center of the tent, several pillows arranged haphazardly around it. More scrolls were sprawled across the surface - maps from the look of it. Zuko tried to make out what they showed, but didn’t get a very good look before Katara cleared them off the table and deposited them half-rolled on the ground. At the center of the table was a small tea kettle atop a stand. Beneath it in a stone bowl was a pile of half-burned wood chips._ _

__“Sit,” Katara offered, gesturing to the pillow opposite of her. She used her spark rocks to light the woodchips. “I hope you don’t mind leftovers. I had tea this morning with Sokka and Suki and I didn’t want to waste it.”_ _

__Zuko cringed inwardly. In Fire Nation culture, it was considered extremely rude to not make a fresh batch of tea for a guest. _But she isn’t Fire Nation_ , he reminded himself. _She wouldn’t know_. Agni knew why he was scrutinizing a peasant’s tea habits anyway. “It’s fine.”_ _

__Katara settled herself on the cushion. She grabbed two chipped cups from under the table and handed one to Zuko. He appraised it with disdain but did not comment. Katara did not seem to notice._ _

__“So,” she said, turning her attention to Zuko. “Your uncle.”_ _

__Zuko felt confused for a moment before remembering why he was here in the first place. “Oh. Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck and focused his eyes on the tiny fire heating the teapot. “Uncle...Mushi.” It was the first name that popped into his head. He imagined the look Iroh would have given him, and a small smile pulled at his lip._ _

__“He studied with waterbenders?” she said. The excitement on her face made her look younger than she acted - like she was just an eighteen year-old and not the leader of a resistance movement. “Do you know where?”_ _

__“The North,” Zuko said. That was about the extent of his knowledge of uncle’s time with the waterbenders. Zuko felt a twinge of regret at the fact that he hadn’t asked more questions - he’d probably just tuned Iroh out._ _

__Katara’s face had taken on something close to wistfulness. The kettle had begun to scream - she took it off the heat and poured a cup for herself and then for Zuko. Another cultural slight - any self-respecting Fire Nationer would have poured their guest’s cup first. But he ignored this, instead taking the cup with a slight incline of his head. Katara opened the water skin on her hip and bent a small amount of water out to douse the smoldering wood chips._ _

__Zuko took a sip of the tea and almost choked. It was extremely bitter. Katara sipped hers, unfazed by the taste. Perhaps he was just used to the tea Uncle made._ _

__“We don’t make tea at home,” she said, catching Zuko’s grimace. “Not many plants grow at the poles.”_ _

__Zuko cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he said, forcing himself to take another sip. “My uncle didn’t tell me very much about what the North was like. Did you drink something else instead?”_ _

__Katara blinked. “I wouldn’t know,” she said. “I’ve never been there.”_ _

__This time, Zuko definitely choked on his tea. “But you’re a waterbender!”_ _

__Her face took on that same closed-off look it had when he’d first met her. “I am.”_ _

__“Aren’t there only waterbenders in the north? I thought the south -” he immediately shut his mouth. The eradication of the southern waterbenders wasn’t something people knew about or discussed outside of the palace. He only knew about it because Ozai had mentioned it as one of the greatest successes of Azulon’s rule - how they had brought the southern Water Tribe to its knees by taking every single waterbender. Iroh did not like to talk about it. He told Zuko in a soft, sad voice that it was a very shameful thing the Fire Nation had done. At the time, Zuko hadn’t understood or cared - war was war, after all. Bad things happened to everyone._ _

__Katara placed her cup down on the table. There was the faintest ripple in the surface of the tea. She looked Zuko dead in the face, her eyes stormy. “You’re right,” she said, her voice hardened. “There aren’t waterbenders in the South. I’m the last one.”_ _

__Zuko tried to tamp down the shock that struck him like lightning. His entire life, he’d been certain that all the waterbenders in the south had been eradicated. And yet, here was one, sitting before him. Katara sighed, the tenseness releasing itself from her body._ _

__“You didn’t know,” she said, sadness creeping at the edges of her voice. “I can’t blame you for that.”_ _

__“I…” he stopped. Was he about to _apologize_ to her? An enemy of his people? For things he could never control? It felt wrong. It felt like _treason_. So instead, he brought the tea to his lips and forced the words back down his throat._ _

__Katara’s deep blue eyes searched his face for a moment, as if she were trying to piece together what he was about to say. Zuko tried to keep his face as impassive as possible. Eventually, she seemed to let it go, and a wave of relief washed over him._ _

__“Sokka’s from the south, too,” she said, and then let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Obviously.”_ _

__“Are there any other Water tribesmen here?” Zuko asked, carefully attempting to pry._ _

__Katara shook her head, easily parting with this information. “No. It’s just Sokka and I. We haven’t been able to connect with the north yet.”_ _

__“Did you start this?” he asked, gesturing his hand back to the resistance camp._ _

__Katara sat up a little straighter. “I did,” she said, a tinge of pride in her voice. “I wanted to help people. I couldn’t stand by and watch the Fire Nation crush innocent people under their foot.”_ _

__Zuko couldn’t help but bristle a little bit. “Maybe the Fire Nation is just trying to help them. To lift them up with modern civilization.”_ _

__Katara let out a harsh, humorless bark of laughter. “You’re joking, right?” she said. “You’ve personally seen what the Fire Nation occupation has done to the Earth Kingdom. They aren’t helping anyone. They’re creating an empire and destroying anyone who gets in their way. They don’t care about anyone but themselves. Why do you think so many people are here?” She gestured towards the camp. The tea in Zuko’s cup rippled with the movement, nearly spilling over his fingers. “The Fire Nation took away their homes, their families, and their culture. A lot of the people here have seen enough violence for one hundred lifetimes, and they’ve barely even experienced their own.” Her eyes were blazing now, like Azula’s blue flames. “The Fire Nation has never once helped anyone. And to think otherwise makes you hopelessly ignorant.”_ _

__He was struck speechless by her tirade. If he had been asked at the palace, Zuko would have thought that the people on the other side of the war effort were upset that they had lost their personal control of their ineffective little governments, or were mad about paying taxes. But now, having been living amongst the opposition for some time, Zuko realized there was more to it than that. He thought about the burn scar on Jet’s arm, about the fear and anger and sadness that came from all sides whenever the Fire Nation was mentioned. He thought about the blackened buildings, the hollow, tired faces of the citizens of Omashu. Once more there was that strange, twisted feeling in his stomach._ _

__Katara closed her eyes and took a breath. “I’m sorry,” she said, but didn’t sound like she meant it. “I know you were just playing Sozin’s advocate. I got carried away.” She opened her eyes again. They still blazed with a ferocity that made Zuko’s heart stop in his chest. “But you have to understand, Lee - I care about these people. They’re hurting, and they need someone to stand up for them.” She took a deep breath. “And I never, ever turn my back on people who need me.”_ _

__Zuko blinked. Distantly, he could see why so many people had chosen to follow her, chosen to risk their lives for her cause. The strength she held and the respect she commanded was something he’d never seen before. Sure, both his father and Azula were also very talented at bringing people to their cause - but they did this by inciting fear and using the threat violence to create loyalty. But Katara…  
Somewhere along the line of her speech, he’d begun to believe in her. And that thought terrified him more than anything in his entire life._ _

__Zuko cleared his throat, desperately trying to distance himself from this conversation. Digging for information to relay to his father was beginning to make his skin prickle uncomfortably._ _

__“You’re very passionate about your cause,” he said, carefully. “It’s...honorable.” The words felt alien in his mouth. He wondered what his family would think if they saw him here, in this position._ _

__A small smile graced Katara’s features. “Thank you, Lee.”_ _

__They sipped tea in the welcome silence. Zuko eventually found he could ignore the extremely bitter taste, but did not ask for a second cup. Katara did not offer._ _

__“I saw your sparring session with Jet the other day,” she said, conversationally. Zuko felt his cheeks heat up. Calling it a sparring session was definitely one way of putting the fight that had occurred. “You’re a very talented fighter.”_ _

__The heat got worse. Zuko could feel the blood in his cheeks inching up to his ears. He briefly wished his hair was still long so he could cover it better. “Uh. Thanks.”_ _

__“Have you fought a bender before?” she asked. “You certainly look like you have. You’re very light on your feet.”_ _

__“I have,” he mumbled. He purposely neglected to mention what kind of bender he’d fought against._ _

__“I could stand to work on my hand-to-hand combat,” Katara said. “I mostly just use my bending, but there isn’t always water nearby.” She tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear, looking almost embarrassed. “When we took back Omashu, I was fighting a firebender, and I ran out of water in my waterskins. He was very good. If it wasn’t for Sokka, he may have killed me.”_ _

__“Is...Sokka not a bender?” Zuko asked. In the Fire Nation, it was rare for siblings to not both be benders. If one was, there was a good chance the other one was as well. He had no idea if this translated to other nations._ _

__Katara laughed that high, tinkling sound again. “Spirits, no. He thinks bending is overrated. His favorite weapon is his stupid boomerrang.” She rolled her eyes, but the general tone of her voice was one of affection. “He’s been trying out a lot of new weaponry since we left home. His most recent choice is a sword he bought in Gaoling that was way too expensive. They said it was made by some famous guy in the Fire Nation.”_ _

__“Piandao,” Zuko supplied. Katara nodded, looking surprised._ _

__“Yeah,” she said. Her gaze flicked to the swords on Zuko’s back. He was never without them - he was too afraid one of the resistance members might steal them. “How’d you know about him?”_ _

__Zuko swallowed. “Uh. He’s famous?” He hoped she bought the explanation. It wouldn’t exactly fit with his cover story to have studied under a master in the Fire Nation._ _

__Katara nodded after a moment, still looking at his swords. “Do you have any other weapons?” she asked. “Or just the Dao swords?”_ _

__“Just the Dao swords,” he said. He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the calluses that had become more pronounced since he’d left the Fire Nation. They hadn’t been entirely soft before like Azula’s or his father’s, who used firebending exclusively and felt that other weapons were tools for those weaker than them. But without the royal spa or any of the various servants at the palace who seemed to obsess over his presentation, Zuko’s hands had turned rough and hard. A peasant’s hands._ _

__“Can I ask you for a favor?” Katara asked. Zuko dragged his face away from his hands, his eyes meeting hers._ _

__“I guess,” he said apprehensively. His thoughts on the royal palace had brought him right back to what his purpose was here, and it was making looking at Katara difficult._ _

__“Teach me how to beat you.”_ _

__He blinked. “What?”_ _

__“I want to get better at fighting in close combat,” she said. “When I don’t have as much water on my side.”_ _

__Zuko felt extremely confused. “What are you talking about? You could beat me any day with your bending.” It was true, and he wasn’t embarrassed by saying it. She was extremely talented._ _

__Katara shook her head. “I could, but that’s not the point. What if I’m in a situation where I don’t have water? Or just my water skin? I want to be strong in a lot of ways, Lee.”_ _

__Zuko shifted uncomfortably. “Can’t you fight with Sokka, then?” he said. “Or Jet?”_ _

__Katara scoffed. “I can beat Sokka with my eyes closed. I know him too well. And…” Her cheeks darkened. “Jet and I...don’t spend time alone anymore.” There was a lot in that sentence that Zuko didn’t particularly want to deconstruct. Katara pressed forward. “I’ve seen how you fight, Lee. It’s...different, and I can’t put my finger on why.”_ _

___Because it’s Fire Nation style_. The words popped into his head, unbidden. Zuko shifted on the cushion again. If he said yes to this, he would be strengthening his father’s enemy, teaching her yet another way to destroy his countrymen. But her gaze was unfaltering, and Zuko had a feeling she wouldn’t take no for an answer._ _

__“Okay,” he said. She smiled. Zuko tried to push away the guilt that had been chewing at him. Katara had been and would continue to beat his people with her unmatched bending prowess - it wasn’t like he was adding too much to the already tall pile._ _

__Katara stood suddenly. “Let’s start now,” she said, excitement on the edge of her voice. “Before anyone wants me to do something else.”_ _

__Zuko blinked up at her. “Now?” He didn’t know what he expected. He’d said yes, there was no way he could put it off._ _

__“Yes,” she said. Katara extended a hand down to him. He grabbed it hesitantly, and she yanked him up off the floor with a strength one wouldn’t usually expect of someone of her stature. “Right now.”__

__…_ _

__They made a makeshift space on the ledge beside her tent. Zuko expressed concern about the edge, but Katara waved him off, assuring him that their sparring wouldn’t be that intense. He had lay down his Dao swords outside of the circle, and she had untied the water skins from her belt. Their first session, Katara insisted, would be hand-to-hand only._ _  


__They faced each other, a moderate amount of space between them. “Are you ready?” Zuko asked, bringing himself into an open fighting stance. Katara did the same, a slight grin on her face._ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__They began to circle each other. Katara’s eyes were locked on him, obviously waiting for him to make the first move. He took a breath, and leapt forward with an aggressive roundhouse kick. Katara immediately ducked under his leg and slipped behind him. Zuko spun as soon as his feet were on the ground again and jabbed a fist at where he expected her to be. Katara blocked his fist with her forearm and tried to use the distraction to hit him with her other hand. He grabbed her wrist before she could make contact with him and flung it aside, taking her off balance as he did so. But Katara did not fall - she was quickly able to right herself and was soon facing him again, back in her defensive stance._ _

__“You’re being too defensive,” Zuko said, breathing slightly harder._ _

__“I’m trying to see how you attack,” Katara countered. She didn’t look even slightly worn out - just very focused._ _

__Zuko scoffed. “That’s literally the definition of defensive.” He settled into a deep stance, positioning his arms out and away from his body. “Attack me.”_ _

__Katara’s eyebrows drew together slightly. She took a deep breath, and launched herself at him. She was fast, and fought mostly with her fists. Zuko was able to block most of her hits, but her quickness gave her an edge, and she was able to land numerous not-too-soft hits on his belly and back. He began to throw in some punches of his own once she seemed to get into a rhythm - jabs that would either land their mark or be swiped away by a strong forearm._ _

__She was obviously not used to using her feet for fighting. Katara seemed to edge between standing firmly in place or spinning away from him. She wasn’t attempting any kicks. Zuko used this to his advantage, aiming low and knocking her off balance. She adapted to this surprisingly quickly, and was able to avoid these attacks by weaving around them and striking from a new position._ _

__It was much different than fighting someone more familiar with the style. Katara stayed quite close to him, ducking and weaving and jabbing him in unexpected places. He realized quickly that she was fighting like she was her element - the fluidity of her motions and the graceful way she moved herself around him was a lot different than the sharp, powerful motions he was making. It almost felt like she was dancing around him._ _

__It became harder and harder to land hits on her. She was beginning to expect how he attacked, and where his kicks and punches would tend to land. Zuko marveled inwardly at how fast she was picking up this style, but knew that he had more tricks up his sleeve._ _

__When Katara ducked under his kick and went to jab him in the ribs, Zuko dropped suddenly to the ground and swung out a sweeping kick. This took her by surprise, and he was able to take both of her feet off of the ground. Zuko grinned when he realized he had taken her down, but the grin quickly left his face when he realized Katara had wrapped her hand around his bicep and was pulling him down with her._ _

__The weight of her falling jerked Zuko over to her, and before he could stop himself, he’d landed on top of her. The breath left his lungs in a sudden rush as he collided with her, and he heard the same thing happen to her right beside his ear. It only took a second for Zuko to take in what had just occurred, and his muscles immediately tensed._ _

__Their bodies were flush against each other, legs and arms entangled where they had struggled as they fell. He could feel Katara’s chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. She moved one of her legs - probably to try and disentangle it - but the movement of her hip against his made Zuko’s heart rate skyrocket. He could barely hear himself think over the pounding beat in his skull._ _

__“Lee,” Katara said softly. Her voice was very close to his ear. He could feel the soft brush of her lips on his cheek. Thinking was becoming difficult. Black spots were appearing in his vision. Was he holding his breath?_ _

__“Lee,” she said again, her voice a little stronger. “Could you get off me? I can’t breathe.”_ _

__That immediately broke the spell of whatever had frozen him in place. Zuko scrambled off of her, desperately trying to control his breath. He was certain that his entire face was flushed. He kept crawling backwards until he was several feet away from her, then stood up. He couldn’t bear to look at her, and instead focused on grabbing his Dao swords and strapping them back onto his back. Zuko was distantly aware of Katara asking him if he was okay._ _

__He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t even begin to think about what had just occurred. He was full of disgust for himself, at how his body had reacted. Caught in such a compromising position with an _enemy of his nation_. What had he been thinking, even agreeing to do this?_ _

__“We shouldn’t do this again,” he said stiffly, adjusting the swords on his back._ _

__“What?” Katara sounded very confused. “What are you talking about? It’s not like you hurt me or something.”_ _

__Zuko had no idea if he could even find a way to explain all the conflicting thoughts in his head. “I’m not concerned about hurting you,” he said, gruffly. He began to leave, to put as much distance between himself and the incident as possible, but was stopped by a hand on his arm._ _

__“Lee, stop,” Katara said. She tried to turn him to face her, but he shook her arm off. Zuko refused to look at her - he didn’t want her to see the brilliant red flush that was probably creeping down his neck at this point. Katara sighed with frustration. “What the hell is your problem?”_ _

__He tensed further, focusing his gaze on the tunnel before him. His jaw was set, and he found he had no answer for her. There was nothing simple about his thoughts._ _

__“Are you embarrassed?” she said suddenly. Zuko slapped a hand to his forehead and groaned. “Because if you are, that’s fine!”_ _

__“It’s more complicated than that,” he grumbled through clenched teeth._ _

__To his surprise, Katara giggled. Against his best wishes, Zuko turned to look at her. She had slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the giggles bubbling to her lips. At the sight of his face, she started to laugh harder, forgoing the hand entirely._ _

__“Tui and La,” she said, the laughter pulling her face into a large smile, “look how red you are!”_ _

__Zuko could feel himself getting redder. “It’s not funny!” he snapped._ _

__But she didn’t stop laughing. In fact, his expression of anger seemed to fuel it. “It is! I didn’t know someone could blush so much before now!”_ _

__Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose and willed himself to calm down. It was proving to be difficult. “It’s just because you made me fall down,” he said, not too convincingly._ _

__Katara rolled her eyes, the giggles beginning to die down. “Uh huh, sure,” she said, teasingly. Her eyes glinted playfully. “Have you never touched a woman, Lee?”_ _

__She was obviously baiting him, but he took it anyway. “Of course I have!” He scowled, clenching his fists at his sides. “I’ve touched plenty of women!” Katara gave him a strange look at that, and he smacked his forehead again. “Not like that - I mean - I’m not -”_ _

__Katara stopped him, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “You’re so easy to rile up, Wolfbat” she said, still smiling. “It’s way too fun. C’mon, let’s go find Sokka. He’ll get a kick out of this.” She began to walk into the tunnel that led back to camp, beckoning him with one hand as she did so._ _

__Zuko watched her for a moment, his thoughts crashing together like a hurricane in his head. He had never felt so incredibly confused. On one hand, this woman was his enemy. He was here to take her down and regain his honor. She was his ticket back into the palace, back into his father’s good graces. But on the other hand…_ _

__He shook his head harshly, trying to clear the thoughts away. There was no other hand. He had one choice, one track. He would not stray._ _

__And yet, he couldn’t shake the memory of her breath on his cheek, of the way her body felt against his. A tiny voice wondered what it would sound like if her whisper had been his true name instead of his fake one._ _

__Zuko followed her into the tunnel, and tried to crush that little voice. It was impossible anyway. He had a destiny, and that destiny had nothing to do with her._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love to write clichés.  
> Some songs I listened to while writing this: "The Ghosts of Beverley Drive" by Death Cab for Cutie, "Will Do" by TV on the Radio, "Coins" by Local Natives, and "Talking Backwards" by Real Estate.  
> I always love to hear feedback.


	4. watch the sunlight fade

The time in the resistance was passing in a blur. Zuko spent the majority of it either with Jet and his group, or sparring with Katara. Occasionally, he spent some with Sokka and other people he didn’t know very well. In truth, it was all pretty overwhelming. These people had taken him in with barely a question and treated him like one of their own. To his continuing frustration, he was feeling more and more conflicted about his reasons for being there. He still considered it important to be getting information, but the information he was getting was hardly useful at best. He tried multiple times to figure out what the resistance’s next plans were, but rarely got anywhere.

He had taken to going with Jet on his stakeouts every few days. It had never been a direct request, but Jet had started waiting for Zuko in their usual meeting spot in the gong-tower. Some days they would make their way across the rooftops of the city, Jet using his hook swords to move easily on the rooftops while Zuko scrambled alongside of him. Other days they would just sit, usually only exchanging a few words. When Jet seemed in a good mood, Zuko would ask him questions. 

“You’ve been in Omashu for a while,” he commented one day as they sat on the edge of the city wall. They couldn’t see actual citizens from this perch, but Jet was certain that this was the best place to spot attacks - despite never having seen any. In fact, there had been absolutely no sign of the Fire Nation at all since Zuko had gotten there. In reality, he knew that this was odd, and part of him wondered if this was his father placing trust in him. Another, more reasonable part of him wondered if they were just biding their time and readying their armies. They’d taken Omashu once - they could take it again.

“You mean we,” Jet corrected. He was chewing on a stalk of wheat that he had swiped off a farmer’s wagon. 

Zuko bit his lip. “Yeah. We.” It felt weird to include himself. He desperately wanted to be an outsider, but it appeared that that was simply not going to be the case. These people were too tightly knit to let anyone remain alone.

“I think we’re regrouping,” Jet said, shrugging one shoulder. “It feels nice to be in one place for a bit. And we don’t have to hide here.”

“You were hiding before?” Zuko asked. It felt like a stupid question, but Jet usually obliged stupid questions.

Jet scowled before answering. “We had to. Katara said we needed to ‘keep a low profile’ or we’d blow our chance at something big.” He picked a pebble up from the wall and tossed it. It bounced off a roof and then out of sight. “Which was stupid, in my opinion. We could have taken down so many more firebenders if she gave us the chance.”

“When did you join them?” Zuko asked, avoiding the comment about firebenders. He’d learned that if he pursued that tangent with Jet, it would be all he’d talk about until he became so angry he’d have to destroy something.

Jet sucked thoughtfully on the wheat stalk. “Pretty early on,” he said. “We met Katara, Sokka, Suki, Toph, and some others in the Si Wong desert. Katara said they were planning something big - that they were going to take on the Fire Nation.” Zuko nodded, trying to get the other man to keep going. Jet obliged. “Of course I wanted in. The other Freedom Fighters - that’s what we were calling ourselves - were a little more nervous, but they always listen to me.” His face softened slightly. “We’ve been together for a while. I’ve known the Duke since he was six.” 

Zuko felt a pang of sorrow for the young boy, but pushed it away. He needed to focus Jet back onto his original point. “The resistance has grown a lot since then,” Zuko said. “You- we have a really big group.”

Jet grinned. His grins never looked friendly - always more like the wolfbat Zuko had adopted the namesake of. “I don’t know why you’re surprised. A lot of people in the Earth Kingdom aren’t exactly happy about the Fire Nation occupation.”

Zuko grimaced. Deep down, he’d known that had always been the answer. There’d been unrest since the Phoenix King’s takeover - he’d just never personally witnessed it until now. All the same, it made his stomach hurt. “You don’t seem to spend a lot of time with Katara and Sokka,” he said, attempting to change the subject. “Even though you’ve been here for so long. You must have gotten to know them really well.”

Jet sighed and leaned back on his elbows. “That I have, Wolfbat,” he said. “Katara doesn’t talk to me anymore. Which is a shame, because she was a great lay.”

As soon as the words left Jet’s mouth, Zuko (who had unfortunately been taking a sip from his waterskin) began to choke. Jet did not seem to notice or care - he just continued to stare out into the distance with a soft look to his face, like he was enjoying a particularly good memory. Which, Zuko thought with a wave of discomfort, he probably was.

“Wait, you _slept_ together?” Zuko said, desperately trying to stifle the coughing.

Jet shot him that wolfbat grin again. “Oh yeah. She was _really_ into me, if you catch my drift.” Zuko felt his skin crawl at the mental image. “You’d be surprised how _demanding_ she can be. There was this one time when we were staying in Gaoling where she pinned me up against a door and used her waterbending to -”

“Please,” Zuko hissed, his face warming dangerously. “Please stop.”

Jet laughed. “You some kinda prude, Wolfbat?”

“No,” he muttered, bringing a hand up to rub the edge of his brow. “I just don’t want details.”

Jet’s dark eyes glittered. “You spend a lot of time alone with her,” he said, a rare playful note in his tone. “You like her, don’t you Wolfbat?”

Zuko chose not to dignify that with an answer, instead fixing Jet with a very angry glare. Jet laughed.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Wolfbat,” he said, still snickering. “Whatever me and Katara had is long over. We got in a stupid arguement and she never wanted to talk to me again.”

“What was the argument about?” Zuko asked, still fighting the mental image that Jet had introduced to his brain. It made it feel like there was a brick in his stomach.

Jet shrugged again, suddenly very interested in his fingernails. The easy look on his face had turned dark. “This stupid Fire Nation occupied town. It was entirely overrun. I wanted to get rid of it. But Katara said they were just ‘innocent people’.” He punctuated the last few words with air quotes. “She was willing to let an entire village rot under Fire Nation rule just because a handful of the people there were from the Earth Kingdom or elders and children or something.” He scowled. “I told her we’d be putting them out of their misery. She told me I was no better than _them_.” The scowl deepened. Jet picked up another pebble and tossed it with all his might into the city. “So we’re not friends anymore. Whatever. She’ll figure it out eventually. She’ll figure out that we need to do what is necessary if we’re ever going to get any farther than where we are now.”

Zuko briefly thanked Agni that Jet was not the leader of this resistance. He chose not to pursue the matter further, instead asking Jet why he and his crew were in the desert in the first place. This launched Jet into a lengthy story about trailing a messenger hawk that thankfully had nothing to do with destroying cities.

The next person Zuko attempted to draw information out of was Sokka. Sokka was one of the harder people to get a hold of - he was incredibly popular and was often surrounded by a variety of random people. But one night, not long after his conversation with Jet on the wall, Zuko was getting dinner in the mess tent when he spotted the Water Tribe man sitting at a table with a woman Zuko had seen around several times but had yet to have been introduced to. Deciding now was his chance, Zuko strode over to the two with his bowl of rice and pig-chicken.

Sokka and the woman were talking with their heads close together, smiling and laughing. Zuko cleared his throat to get their attention. They looked over at him, their expressions questioning. 

“Need something, Lee?” Sokka asked, a little annoyed. Zuko ignored his tone, pressing forward.

“Can I sit with you?” he asked. “To eat.”

Sokka made a strange face. “Uh, we’re kinda busy here…”

“Of course you can!” the woman said, smiling at him and putting a hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “You’re Lee right?”

“Yeah,” Zuko said, sliding into a seat across from them. Sokka was obviously trying to catch the woman’s attention, but she was pointedly ignoring him. Zuko had no idea what was going on between them, and decided it wasn’t his business to know. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“My name’s Suki,” the woman said, inclining her head in the best bow she could muster with a table in the way. “Sokka’s told me a lot about you. I heard you wield Dao swords quite well.”

Sokka had stopped trying to get Suki’s attention and had turned back to his mostly empty bowl of food. His mood seemed to have turned completely, and he stabbed at a chunk of pig-chicken with his chopsticks. “Okay, I didn’t say he was _that_ great.” Suki sent out an elbow jab directly to Sokka’s side, causing him to drop the piece of food on the way to his mouth. Sokka let out an indignant cry as the meat hit the ground. “Suki! Look what you made me do!”

“Ignore him,” Suki said lightly. “He’s got a flair for drama.”

Sokka let out a bark of laughter. “Says the one who puts on a whole costume just to beat people up!” Suki immediately shot him a glare, and he backed off immediately. “A very culturally important and special costume,” he amended. “And may I add, extremely badass?”

Suki smiled again. “Thank you, Sokka.”

“A costume?” Zuko asked. The two were apparently quite close. Zuko had heard Suki’s name come up a few times now, and he mentally matched the girl before him with what few stories he had heard. She was quite tall - at least as tall as Sokka if not taller. Her tan arms were well-muscled, and she held herself with the poise of a soldier. Her short hair was the color of autumn leaves - something Zuko had very rarely seen. A smattering of freckles speckled the bridge of her nose. She was quite pretty, but also held a very powerful air about her - like she wasn’t someone to be messed with.

“He’s talking about my Kyoshi Warrior gear,” she said. “I wear it into battle.”

Zuko nodded. Now he could _definitely_ put the pieces together. The Kyoshi Warriors were known across all four nations as a very elite and powerful sect of female soldiers, known for their distinctive face paint, kimono armor, and gold fans. Iroh had spoken about them on occasion with a note of awe in his tone. Zuko had always wondered how his uncle could respect a group of non-benders, but now that he was sitting across from one, he understood a little better. There was something about the way Suki held herself that told him she could take him down in seconds.

“Aren’t Kyoshi Warriors based in Kyoshi Island?” Zuko asked carefully.

To his relief, Suki didn’t appear to be offended. “They are. But I joined the resistance because I know I can do more here.” Her face fell slightly. “Ever since the occupation, the Kyoshi Warriors have been watched quite closely. My sisters had to renounce me for their safety.”

“Oh.” For some reason, a wave of shame came over Zuko. “That’s terrible.”

“It really is,” Sokka piped in. He’d finished his meal and pushed the empty bowl aside. Now he was eyeing Suki’s. “But she’ll get to go back to them. When we put the Fire Nation back in its place.”

Zuko’s attention immediately sprung to Sokka’s statement, and he forgot all about Suki’s sad story. “Put them in their place?” he repeated, hoping for Sokka to expound on those words.

Suki had apparently noticed Sokka looking at her bowl, and pushed it toward him. He gave her a large smile before digging in with his chopsticks. “Yeah,” he said, mouth full of rice. “That’s the whole point.”

Zuko was practically holding his breath. _Finally_ \- some information he could use! “The point of the resistance?”

“Uh, duh?” Sokka said, finally swallowing. “Why else would we be doing this?” He scooped another large bite into his mouth. “Did you just join us ‘cause you thought this was some cool club or something?”

“No, of course not,” Zuko said. He was becoming slightly impressed with the amount of food Sokka was putting away. “I just wasn’t sure if this was it. Taking over Omashu.”

“This was definitely a big step,” Suki said. She placed a hand on Sokka’s forearm, caressing it gently with her fingertips. “I met Katara and Sokka right after they left the south pole. They had so many big plans, but there were only two of them. So of course I wanted to join too. And then we just kept rolling forward, picking up people as we went!”

“Like a snowball,” Sokka said triumphantly. He had finished what was left of Suki’s dinner and had stacked the bowl on top of his. “I was still pissed at Katara when we got to Kyoshi Island. I think we spent the entire boat ride from the south arguing.”

“Arguing?” It seemed so odd to hear - Sokka and Katara always seemed like a very solid team. Arguing sounded more like him and Azula.

Sokka shrugged. “I didn’t think we should have left. Obviously I changed my mind.”

Zuko raised his eyebrows. For some reason, he had been under the impression that Katara and Sokka had been nursing this plan together since the beginning. It made sense, now that he thought of it, that Katara had been the driving force behind this endeavor. She cared about this resistance and the people it helped more than anyone. Zuko couldn’t help but admit that he admired her for that.

“She’s incredibly ambitious,” Suki said, a note of pride in her tone. “She’s going to do great things. I wouldn’t be surprised if she turned the tide of the war.”

“But the war is over,” Zuko said. And perhaps he said it with a little too much conviction, because both Sokka and Suki gave him very confused looks.

“Uh, I don’t know where you’ve been living for the past hundred years, but there’s definitely a war happening. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of something called the ‘Fire Nation’?” Sokka said sarcastically.

“But I thought Phoenix King Ozai ended it three years ago,” Zuko pressed. “When he took Ba Sing Se?”

Suki frowned. “Maybe your village gave up, Lee, but most of us never stopped fighting.”

“Yeah, who cares what Mr. Fancy Pants Firelord says anyway,” Sokka said, flapping a hand dissmissively. “He can’t just take over one big city and call himself ruler of the world.”

Zuko swallowed, his throat tugging at a very large lump that had formed there. “Ba Sing Se is an important city,” he muttered, but the fight wasn’t in him. To his deep discomfort, he’d begun to see their point.

“That’s true,” Sokka said, jabbing a chopstick in Zuko’s direction. “But we took back Omashu. Which is also an important city. So should we give ourselves silly names and start oppressing people?”

Suki grinned. “I don’t know about oppressing people, but I think I’d like to start going by Sparrowkeet Queen Suki!”

Sokka laughed. “Okay, okay, I’ll be Arctic Hen King Sokka.” Both of them collapsed into laughter at that, making ridiculous bird noises and flapping their elbows like wings. Zuko chose not to point out that the phoenix was a manifestation of the power of fire rather than an actual bird, and instead watched Sokka and Suki make fun of his father with a small smile on his face.

...

A few days later, Zuko finally got the information he was waiting for.

He and Katara had been sparring again - something she approached him to do every few days or so. Zuko was very careful with these sessions so as not to repeat the awkward situation the first one had put him in. If Katara noticed, she did not appear to care. She was becoming better and better at fighting him, and had started involving some of his own fighting moves into her repertoire. They had started to use more weaponry after their hand-to-hand became routine, and that day Zuko had been using his Dao swords while Katara wielded a small amount of water.

Zuko was focused solely on avoiding her ranged attacks, and had almost been able to get the blade close enough to win the match. But Katara remained quick and difficult to hit, and when she wrapped a whip of water around his wrist and pulled, Zuko’s sword went flying away. He hesitated a second too long and she was able to get a second tendril of water around his other wrist, disarming him and winning the match.

He was still getting used to fighting with the water - it was oddly warm and acted strange, like a living thing rather than just liquid. Other times it was sharp and hard, like a knife blade. And yet, whenever it was gone from him he still felt like he’d just encountered a sudden rainstorm. That’s how he ended a good portion of their matches these days - soaking wet and frustrated that he’d lost yet again.

“You almost got me!” Katara said, leaning down to pick up one of the fallen swords.

Zuko accepted the proffered hilt, trying to shake some of the water out of his hair. It had grown slightly longer in his time there, and was now plastered to his forehead and ears.

“Let me help,” Katara said. With a flick of her fingers, the water fled Zuko’s body like it had been called away. Katara deposited it back into the water skin at her hip.

Zuko ran a hand through his now mostly dry hair. He scrunched up his face at the water skin. “You don’t drink that, right?”

Katara grimaced. “Ew. No. I have a separate water skin for drinking. That water has touched way too many weirdos.” Her grimace turned into a teasing smile. “Including you.”

Zuko picked up his second sword and sheathed it. “Gee, thanks,” he said sarcastically. “Remind me to ask you next time I need my hair washed.”

“You’d be surprised how few people take me up on that.” She was retying her braid, which had gotten slightly messy during their match. Zuko watched her do this, careful to keep an uninterested expression on his face.

“What now?” he asked. “You can beat me no matter what I do.” Privately, Zuko wished he could spar with her using his firebending. He’d certainly be able to put on a better fight. But that would never happen - at least while they were still on the same side.

Katara paused for a moment, looking at him. He swallowed. Her blue eyes seemed to stare directly into his soul. The previously easy expression on her face had turned serious, like she was thinking very intently about something. For a brief, terrifying moment, Zuko wondered if she had read his thoughts.

“Lee,” she said, slowly. “I want to ask you something.”

Zuko’s stomach flipped uncomfortably. “...What is it?”

Her gaze didn’t waver. Suddenly, she was that intimidating woman he’d met his first day in the resistance, asking him difficult, painful questions in a dark room. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” The words came out with almost no hesitation at all, and terrified him with the truth they held. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end, and the air suddenly felt like it was full of electricity. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume that someone in the vicinity was about to bend lightning.

Katara stepped forward. She had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze, but to Zuko she seemed larger than life. The world had warped itself around her, as if she commanded it like her element. Her eyes were deep blue wells, and he couldn’t look away, no matter how much his heart jumped around like a terrified jackalope.

“I want you to fight beside me.”

His immediate, innate reaction was to say _yes, of course, anything_ , but the reasonable part of his brain suddenly woke back up and remembered exactly what was going on. He was Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, here on a task for his father that he needed to complete or he would never be allowed back in his homeland again. So he steeled himself.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, slowly. The world was coming back into focus now that he had grasped it again. Katara was searching his face, the slightest twinge of disappointment making the corner of her mouth turn down. Zuko wondered if she knew what kind of persuasion she was capable of.

“It means that I want to leave Omashu,” she said finally. “I want to keep going. And I want you to come with me.”

Zuko drew in a sharp breath. “What do you mean? Wouldn’t everyone go?”

“And leave Omashu defenseless?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. “No. A lot of people are going to need to stay. The next part of this requires a low profile, and a resistance that’s one-hundred strong isn’t going to be that. We can’t let the Fire Nation know anything.”

A shiver raced up his spine. Finally, finally he was going to get the important information he’d been looking for. “What’s the next part?”

“I need to get some other people together,” she said, pacing away. “We’ll talk more about it later. Meet at my tent after lunch.”

“Wait!” Zuko said, holding up a hand to stop her. She paused, only turning her head slightly towards him. “Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

He could just barely see the tiny smile that tugged the corner of her mouth up. “We’re going to Ba Sing Se.”

...

The messenger hawk outpost in Omashu was quiet. There were two or three hawks settled in perches, the canister they carried strapped to their backs. In the corner was a desk and a stool, indicating that there was usually an attendant present. Today there was not - instead a tiny sign with the characters for “back after lunch” written on it was standing on the desk surface.

Zuko’s hands shook as he took a sheet of parchment and a quill from the desk. He placed it in front of him, dipped the quill into the inkwell on the desk, and willed himself to start writing.

He needed to write to his father, to tell him that the resistance was heading to Ba Sing Se, and he must prepare accordingly. But his hand simply could not form the characters to do so. It had begun to shake harder, making drops of ink flick onto the parchment. He had to keep swallowing back the nausea that was rising in his throat.

Why in Agni’s name was this so _difficult_? This was the job he had been working on for _weeks_. Just writing this letter would get him closer to earning his honor back, to getting back in his father’s good graces. If he did this, he’d get to go home. He would be welcomed back as a prince instead of as an outcast.

Maybe he’d even get his position in the line of succession back.

But all he could think about were the people he would be writing the death sentences for. Jet and his group, who’d taken him under their wing and made him feel like less of an outcast. Sokka, who still found a way to be optimistic when his people had been practically eradicated. Suki, who’d had to give up her way of life and her family in order to do what she thought was right. And Katara…

Zuko suddenly threw the quill across the room with a cry of frustration. It sprayed ink in a small arc across the desk, and a few of the hawks flapped their wings in alarm. He started cursing as he tore up the empty piece of parchment, although he wasn’t sure exactly where the curses were directed - at himself, at the resistance, at his family, at the _world_ -

“Holy shit, man.”

The voice made him stop suddenly, hands pausing among the strips of parchment he’d created. Zuko turned slowly, embarrassment making his body lock into its oddly hunched angle. He distantly noticed his hands were black with ink.

The woman who stood before him was young - probably around fifteen or sixteen. Her skin was almost as pale as his, but still had that slight tan color that indicated Earth Kingdom ethnicity. She had thick, pitch black hair that was pulled into a bun behind her head. Whatever didn’t make it into the bun fell around her face like a curtain. Between the strands, Zuko was able to make out two large, misty green eyes that seemed to stare directly through him. With a small jolt, he realized she was blind.

But she didn’t hold herself like she was blind. While she was small in stature, she was also extremely well-muscled, and stood across from him with the confidence of a much larger and older person. Her arms were crossed, and her bare feet were planted firmly on the ground. She also had apparently somehow witnessed his tantrum, and was appraising him with a look Zuko could only describe as barely concealed laughter.

“What’d the letter do to deserve _that_?” she asked, pointing to the desk, where the parchment lay in several shredded pieces. Zuko looked at the mess and then back at her, feeling extremely confused.

“Uh.” He cocked his head to the side, trying to see if she wasn’t really blind. But her eyes remained fixed in position. “I...uh…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said suddenly, letting her arm fall to her side. She walked over to the desk and pulled herself up to sit on top of it. She moved like she could see everything in the room - she even avoided the quill on the floor. “I get it.”

“You...get it?” For some reason, Zuko wondered if the girl had some sort of special spirit powers. The idea was ridiculous, but terrified him all the same.

“Totally.” She grabbed a ripped piece of parchment and began to fold it between her fingers. “I keep coming here thinking I’m going to write to my parents and then I just end up freaking out and changing my mind. They probably wouldn’t get it and send some bounty hunters after me again, but they’re my parents. You know?”

Zuko had no idea how he should be handling this situation. He wanted to ask her how she knew he was trying to write to his father, but instead what came out was: “You can write?”

The woman let out a loud bark of laughter. “Ha! No. I can’t see shit.” She waved a hand in front of her face as if to drive the point home, then indicated the empty stool behind the desk. “I make Lohi write it for me. But she’s not here, apparently. And I never finish the letters anyway.” She tilted her head toward him slightly, letting more hair fall in front of her eyes. “I’m Toph, by the way.”

“Oh.” Zuko could finally put another face to a name. He’d only seen her from afar while she did her earthbending or heard her name in conversations with other people. They’d never once mentioned her blindness, and that was probably due to the fact that Toph seemed to not even be affected by it and would probably beat anyone up who teased her for it. “I’ve seen your earthbending. I’m Lee.”

“I know who you are, Sparky,” she said casually, throwing the crumpled paper aside.

“Sparky?” Great. Another stupid nickname. “I thought people were calling me Wolfbat.”

Toph rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I didn’t come up with that. Mine’s better.”

Zuko rubbed the side of his brow. The headache there was not getting any better. “Why ‘Sparky’?”

She swept her hand over the messy desk, making paper pieces flutter everywhere. “Because when you lose your temper, you go off like a firecracker: really suddenly and while making a huge mess.” She grinned.

He couldn’t really argue with that logic.

“Anyway, we should get out of this lame place. I’d say we should clean up, but I think Lohi will probably just think the birds did it, so why bother?” Toph hopped down off of the table and hooked her hand around Zuko’s forearm, taking him by surprise. Her grip was incredibly strong but her hands were rather soft - a noblewoman’s hands. Toph certainly didn’t seem like someone from that sort of background - she obviously hadn’t bathed in a bit and was covered in a fine layer of dirt - but Zuko was learning to just accept these sorts of things. He probably didn’t show a lot of his noble background either, these days.

“Walk with me,” she demanded, pulling his arm. “I want to talk more.”

“Uh, okay.” He wasn’t really in a position to say no. Toph was practically pulling him out of the shop by his elbow. He glanced back over his shoulder at the splattered ink and ripped parchment, realizing his chance to send a message to his father was quickly slipping away.

But the only thing he could feel was a wave of relief.

...

Toph continued their mostly one-sided conversation all the way to the meeting Katara had set up earlier. Zuko had no idea how Toph knew he was going to be part of the meeting, and didn’t bother to ask. He had started to believe that the young earthbender just knew things intrinsically. There was really no other way to explain her.

When they got to the cavern with the waterfall, he and Toph were apparently the last people to arrive. There was a small group of mostly recognizable people sitting on the ground around Katara’s tea table, which had been pulled from her tent to the larger space. Zuko was slightly surprised to see Jet and four members of his group were seated in a cluster. Jet was saying something to them, and they were all listening with rapt attention. Around the other side of the table, Suki was conversing politely with the earthbender who Zuko had seen sparring with Katara (Haru?). Off to the side, Katara and Sokka were having an intense conversation with a lot of hand gestures.

“Brings me back,” Toph said. She let go of Zuko’s arm and brought her fist up suddenly. The ground erupted into a stone chair, which she proceeded to take a seat on. Hardly anyone paid them any heed, despite the amount of noise Toph was making. 

“Brings you back to what?” Zuko asked, standing awkwardly next to her makeshift lounge. He was partially avoiding Jet’s group, who seemed to be trying to catch his eye to wave him over.

“Back to before Omashu and we gained all these people,” Toph said. “This is the original group. Minus you, of course.”

“Wait,” Zuko held up a hand, forgetting Toph couldn’t see it. “All of the rest of them came from _Omashu_?”

Toph shrugged one shoulder. “Not _all_ of them. But there were at least seventy people already here, trying to carry out a resistance. They weren’t doing a great job obviously.” She crossed her arms and placed them behind her head, a relaxed grin on her face. “Not ‘til we came.”

Zuko realized his uncle had been more right than all of them; this was not an organized effort - just a lot of people who were looking for something to believe in, who saw their chance and grabbed it. If it didn’t make him nervous for what the next part of their plan was, he’d be impressed.

A quiet settled over the chatter, and Zuko realized that Katara and Sokka had come back from their conversation and had taken places around the table. Sokka settled next to Suki, leaning against her shoulder. Katara remained standing, examining everyone around her with a serious look on her face.

“As you already know,” she started, once she had everyone’s attention, “I believe it’s time for us to leave Omashu and move forward in taking back the Earth Kingdom.” A few of Jet’s group let out brief whoops and cheers. From across the circle, Haru shushed them. Smellerbee stuck her tongue out at him. Katara continued, ignoring them.

“Omashu is in a great place. King Bumi was happy to take back leadership, and has promised to keep the city safe.” Jet scoffed suddenly, earning a very dangerous look from Katara.

“What?” he said, bristling. “He was literally just sitting around and waiting until we came to save his city. Am I the only one who remembers him _surrendering_ to the Fire Nation? Leaving this place is basically leaving it wide open to another invasion.”

Toph sat up suddenly, her face pink with anger. “ _Excuse me_? King Bumi is one of the greatest earthbenders of all time! The only reason he surrendered was because he didn’t want the Fire Nation to raze the goddamn city! He could’ve crushed them all in a _second_!”

“Then why didn’t he?” Jet snarled back, standing. “He’s so old that his brain has turned to mush! He’s insane!” Toph went into a bending stance, teeth bared. Jet pulled his hook swords free from his belt. 

“Spirits, stop!” Katara said, coming forward to step between them. She pointed one hand to Jet. “Jet, if you think leaving here with King Bumi in charge is a mistake, then you can stay. You don’t need to come to with us and if you keep starting fights I will make _sure_ you stay.” Jet backed down, resheathing his swords. He grumbled something quietly to himself that Zuko didn’t catch. Katara apparently chose to ignore it, instead turning her attention to Toph. “Toph, you should know better than to let Jet rile you up. I thought you were sixteen, not twelve.” Toph relaxed her stance, but her cheeks were still reddened with anger.

“Thank you,” Katara said. The annoyance hadn’t left her voice. “As I was saying, we are leaving Omashu and moving on. Our next destination is Ba Sing Se.” These words set off a flurry of murmurs amongst the group. Some were excited, some were more concerned. Haru seemed particularly distressed.

“Ba Sing Se?” the earthbender asked, his voice wobbling slightly. “Are you sure, Katara? That’s...much larger than Omashu. There will be more of a Fire Nation presence. There’s even a royal on the throne there!”

The thought of Azula made a spike of fear shoot through Zuko. He’d almost forgotten that his sister was at the throne. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure about this idea. A few people were echoing Haru’s sentiment, a worried hum beginning to build around them.

Sokka stood and came over to be beside Katara. He looked just as determined as his sister, if not more so. The set of his shoulders made him seem nothing like the goofy personality Zuko knew him as. Both he and Katara looked like generals addressing their battalion.

“I know it seems impossible,” Sokka said, his voice carrying over the din. “But we thought the same thing about Omashu, and look where we are now?” He gestured vaguely towards the ceiling of the cavern, where the city in question resided.

“We never dreamed we’d have the people supporting us that we do,” Katara added. “Imagine how many more we can gain! All these people need is a little hope, like they did for Omashu!”

“Ba Sing Se is several times the population of Omashu,” Smellerbee pointed out. Around her, the rest of her group muttered their assent. “How are we supposed to reach them all? And without getting caught?”

“It’s not likely that the citizens of Ba Sing Se have just been sitting around on their butts and not organizing any sort of opposition,” Suki said pointedly. “You think they’re happy there? Under the direct thumb of the Fire Nation?”

“Have you ever been to Ba Sing Se?” Jet still seemed sore from his disagreement with Toph, and looked ready to have another argument. “They’re used to being under oppression. They’re just wearing different colored jackets now.”

“The point is,” Katara said, cutting off the fight before it could start, “there are people there who we know would be willing to listen. I imagine they would much rather have Kuei on the throne than Azula.”

Zuko didn’t realize he was chewing on the inside of his lip until he bit down a little too hard at his sister’s name and blood filled his mouth. Toph seemed to notice his discomfort, and apparently decided he wasn’t going to get away with it.

“What’s your problem, Sparky?” Toph asked quietly. “You’re acting like you just saw a saber-tooth moose lion.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he hissed back, maybe a little too quickly. Toph obviously didn’t believe him, but chose not to comment on it further. Zuko focused on not chewing another hole in his mouth.

“And anyway, we’ve already started sowing some seeds,” Sokka was saying. “We have some friends in Ba Sing Se who’ve been working on the plan for _months_. It’s part of the reason why we’re going there. So don’t say we’re going in blind, because we aren’t.”

Toph snickered to herself. “Not all of us, anyway.”

“How do you know we can trust these people?” Jet asked, raising an eyebrow. “You won’t tell us who they are.”

“It doesn’t matter who they are,” Katara growled. Jet was obviously getting beneath her skin and pushing aside the war general persona. “ _We_ trust them. They’re going to help us get into Ba Sing Se and keep a low profile. I don’t need any of your paranoid ramblings right now, Jet. You can come with us, or you can stay here. It’s your choice.”

Jet’s dark eyes glittered, but he once again backed down. Katara let out a breath, relaxing her fists, which had begun to clench at her tunic.

“We’re leaving tonight,” she said, addressing the whole group. “If you want to stay here, I can’t hold that against you. But the next step needs to be taken soon. They have intel that can change the course of the war, and I don’t know about you, but I want to be there for that. So who’s with us?” A quiet settled over the group as several people exchanged looks. Toph just sat up and stretched. 

“It’s about time!” she said, hopping off her makeshift lounge. “I’ve been wanting to kick some Fire Nation ass for _weeks_.”

“You guys are right,” Suki said, standing up. “We need to get back out there. The people of Ba Sing Se need our help.”

Haru shifted uncomfortably on the ground. His handsome face had twisted into a frown. “I’m sorry Katara,” he said, finally looking up at the woman. “I don’t think I can go headfirst into a buzzard wasp nest on a promise. I have a family, I can’t…” He trailed off, his tan cheeks darkening at the implication of his words. “I’m sorry.”

Katara dipped her head, a trace of disappointment in her expression. “I understand, Haru.”

Zuko was expecting Jet to say something similar, if perhaps less tactful. His entire group was staring at him, like their decision hinged entirely on his. _It probably does_ , he mused to himself, looking at the varying expressions of worry and hope on their faces.

“We’re coming,” he said finally, much to Zuko’s surprise. Katara and Sokka seemed surprised as well. They exchanged a look, and Sokka shrugged. 

“Alright, that’s great, but could you maybe try to tone down the asshole level to like...a five?”

Jet scoffed. “I said I’d go, okay?”

Zuko suddenly realized that all eyes in the room had turned to him, and he realized with a start that he’d been the only person to not say a single thing. He cleared his throat. His skin felt like it was burning from the attention.

“Lee?” Katara asked, somewhat hesitantly.

He knew that he could stay behind. It would probably be the safest route. As soon as the leadership left, he could write to his father and sister and alert them to the coup in Ba Sing Se. He could sit back and reap the rewards and never see any of them again, safe in the knowledge that they were locked up in Boiling Rock.

Or dead.

The thought of that made him more uncomfortable than he wanted to admit. Besides, his father would probably still find a way to deem him cowardly for hanging back from the front lines. And Zuko was anything but cowardly.

“Yeah,” he said, finally finding his tongue. “I’ll come too.”

Katara smiled at him, and it made his body explode with warmth. Zuko immediately tried to swallow it down. He wasn’t doing this for _her_ , he was doing this for his honor. But the words rang hollow in his head, and all he could think about was the relief on her face.

...

Leaving was a lot less easy than it had seemed.

After dinner, Katara had instructed they all say goodbye to the people staying behind and meet at the gates. This part had not been difficult. Zuko hadn’t grown particularly close to any of the other resistance members, but endured the hugs and claps on the shoulder from the half of Jet’s group that were staying behind. He had very little that wasn’t already in his pack. He was instructed to help carry some food for the group, which he did without complaint. At the last moment, he remembered his ostrich horse and brought it up to Sokka, who considered it before eventually deciding it would be too risky.

“They’re too big,” he’d said. “We need to stay as low profile as possible. Sorry, man.” Zuko didn’t particularly care about the ostrich horse, but accepted the apologies anyway. He was suddenly glad that the boots he’d purchased in Uzure had been relatively good quality leather.

When Zuko made his way to the gates, most of the group was already there. Pu Xin and Fa were at the entrance to the gate again, talking to Sokka and Katara. Zuko adjusted his pack on his shoulder and leaned against the wall. The sun was setting, and a large shadow was extending out from the gates. Zuko focused on watching the edge of the shadow creep across the buildings before him, trying not to think about what he was about to do and how upset his uncle would be. His promise that he would be careful felt like it had happened lifetimes ago.

By the time the shadow had crept over the tops of the roofs of the houses at the bottom of the hill, Jet and his group had joined them, completing their journeying party to Ba Sing Se. Katara called everyone together with a wave of her hand. The group felt almost too small - Zuko wondered for the hundredth time that day if he was making the right choice. It was starting to feel like death was the only thing that awaited them beyond these walls.

“Earlier today, Fa and Pu Xin spotted a Fire Nation patrol party,” she said, her face serious. Zuko stifled a groan at this. They hadn’t even left the city yet, and already their lives were in danger. “It appeared to be reconnaissance, but we need to be careful.”

“It appeared to be about five men,” Fa added. “We saw some smoke about a mile out - probably a camp. They might be benders.”

“The darkness should help us,” Sokka said, glancing up at the sky. It had turned purple, and Zuko could see some stars.

“Only five? We can take them,” Toph scoffed, crossing her arms. “We totally outnumber them. It’d be a piece of cake.”

“Yeah, we should take them out while we can,” Jet said. His dark eyes glittered with excitement. “To protect Omashu.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Katara snapped, giving Jet a searing look. He backed down, face darkening. Zuko wondered if they’d always been at each other’s throats, or if their shared history had anything to do with the tension that pulled taut between them.

They eventually decided to stay far away from the encampment and start making their way east. Zuko hung back as everyone crossed the thin bridge back into the forest. The night was a little bit colder than when he had last been out there - summer was beginning to wane into autumn. He was the last to cross, following slightly behind Pipsqueak and the Duke and gripping tightly to the handles of his Dao swords.

As the moon rose higher in the sky, Zuko began to feel slightly less nervous. Part of him worried that if they were ambushed, he would somehow be recognized and outed as a Prince of the Fire Nation. A more bitter part of him knew this was entirely ridiculous - members of the general public hadn’t seen him since he was thirteen. They especially wouldn’t recognize him with the scar marring his face.

The group stayed mostly quiet with the exception of Toph, who didn’t seem worried in the slightest. She had been walking alongside the Duke, who matched her in height but was significantly less broad. When Toph laughed loudly at her own joke, Katara brought the entire group to a halt. She whipped around to face her, barely concealed irritation on her face.

“Toph,” she said in a loud whisper. “Are you _trying_ to get us noticed?”

Toph scoffed. “Listen, Sweetness. I’m basically our first line of defense here. Nothing’s getting near us without me noticing. So maybe you can ease that stick a little bit out of your ass.”

Katara pinched the bridge of her nose and took a breath. “Could you at least humor me?”

“Whatever.” Toph crossed her arms and stomped past Katara, making her own way along the path. Katara watched her go, her face pinched.

“Let it go,” Sokka said, putting a hand on Katara’s shoulder. “It’s been a bit since we’ve been outside Omashu. We’re all still getting used to it.”

Katara put her hand over Sokka’s, her face softening. “I’ll try and be more patient,” she said. “Try being the key word.”

They continued along the path, Toph choosing to sulk up front. Zuko remained towards the back. He hadn’t sheathed his Dao swords again - something about the night was putting him on edge.

The half moon was at its peak in the sky when Zuko realized that the forest around them had become silent. He stopped and turned, trying to make out any sort of movement in the darkness. _Did that bush just move?_ Agni, if only he could call up his fire…

Toph stopped abruptly only a few moments after he did, making the group stumble to a halt. Zuko hardly noticed this as he squinted into the darkness. Despite how hard he strained, he could only just hear the breeze whispering through the leaves.

“Why’d you stop?” Suki asked in a worry-tinged whisper.

“There’s something out there,” Toph said, her voice no more than a low rumble. “We need to-”

That’s when he saw it - a flicker of orange, getting larger and larger as it barreled towards them.

Zuko barely had time to scream “Fireball!” before it erupted over his head, narrowly missing several others as it landed on an overhanging tree branch and immediately set it ablaze. The bright orange glow lit the frightened faces of his companions, all of whom were scrambling to retrieve their weaponry.

The group of Fire Nation troops that exploded from the forest with blazing fists was small, but still terrifyingly formidable. All of them were firebenders, and a few of them also carried weaponry alight with the terrifying flames. Zuko immediately dodged the fiery broadsword that swung in his direction and began his own attack on the soldier, barely even registering exactly what he was doing. Yells erupted all around him as the resistance group jumped into battle.

Zuko focused on disarming tactics. Since he was used to fighting firebenders, he was easily able to understand what sort of flame each movement would make, and was able to react accordingly. The soldier he was fighting was enthusiastic, but not very skilled. His fire was not controlled, and exploded in short bursts that were barely hot enough to make his skin burn. He never let it touch him, and was able to dive under the man when he tried to get Zuko with a flaming kick. From behind him, Zuko knocked him hard on his helmet with the butt of his sword. The man went down like a fallen tree, his helmet popping off as he hit the dirt.

He glanced around, trying to get an idea of what else was happening in the clearing and who might need help. Longshot and Smellerbee were standing slightly off to the side, the former nocking an arrow towards an oncoming soldier while the latter crouched protectively in front of him with a dagger in both hands. Pipsqueak was holding a woman by her neck against a tree while the Duke tied her hands behind it. Sokka and Suki fought back to back against three soldiers, using a sword and fans respectively. One of the soldiers was suddenly taken out by a blast of stone from the ground, sending him flying away above the treetops. Jet was nowhere to be seen, but another soldier fell out of the dense tree branches and hit the ground, unmoving.

As soon as he saw Katara, the world around him felt like it slowed down. She was battling a soldier who was fighting primarily with his fists, each of which coated in a blaze of fire. She was definitely pulling from their sparring sessions - her movements were quick and fluid as she remained within close range of the man. She had coated her arms in water and was using them to block his hits. The man was obviously getting frustrated - the flames on his fists were creeping up his arms as well. Katara’s face was sharp and determined, the orange glow casting flickering shadows over her skin. Zuko watched, his heart in his throat, as the man leapt forward suddenly and flame exploded from his kick. Katara barely dodged in time, a fire ripping through the edge of her tunic and making her hiss in pain. Zuko nearly jumped into the fight to help her, but she almost immediately recovered and lashed out her water in a whip that grabbed the man’s foot and pulled him off the ground. He landed hard on his head, and did not get back up.

Katara looked up, as if noticing for the first time that Zuko had been watching her. A small smile came over her face for a moment when she caught his eye. Then her gaze flicked over his shoulder and her expression changed to one of horror. “Lee! Behind you!”

He turned quickly, but not fast enough. The soldier had managed to sneak up on him while he was distracted, and barreled over him, knocking Zuko to the ground. The air was forced out of his lungs as his head bounced off the dirt path. For a terrifying, dizzying moment, Zuko had no idea which direction he was facing. He felt the heavy soldier kneel on his chest, keeping him from catching his breath. His Dao swords had fallen from his hands. Blurrily, he could tell that the soldier was raising a hand filled with fire up in the air above his head. Zuko closed his eyes, waiting for the flames to envelope him.

But it didn’t. Instead, the weight was suddenly removed. Zuko opened his good eye, taking in a gasping breath. He turned onto his side just in time to see that Jet jumped out of the trees and onto the soldier that had been on top of him. The man was scrabbling under Jet’s boots, trying desperately to get out of the position he had just had Zuko in. Zuko was about to thank Jet, but the next thing the man did immediately made the words die in his mouth.

Jet swung down his hook sword, catching the man in the throat. The blade dug into the pale skin and ripped through it like a ripe piece of fruit. Blood sprayed from the man’s throat and mouth, and he began to struggle harder. Zuko watched, heart pounding, as Jet pulled the sword back. It tore through the rest of the man’s neck, nearly severing his head from his body. An ocean of blood spread out from the wound, and Zuko was barely able to push himself up and away from it. The man had stopped struggling and now lay twitching under Jet’s feet.

The world suddenly became incredibly sharp and clear. Zuko was barely breathing, his head spinning and his chest screaming in pain. He couldn’t take his eyes off the body before him, couldn’t look away as the life faded from the man’s face. All he could hear was a loud, insistent ringing. Jet was looking at him now, his dark eyes like empty pits in his face. 

Without warning, his body collapsed to its knees and he vomited. The ringing was starting to fade, and Zuko realized distantly that the fighting had stopped. He continued to crouch on the ground, staring at his own vomit and replaying over and over the moment when Jet’s hook sword tore through the man’s throat.

_That’s one of my people. And I just helped kill him._

Rationally, he knew that he didn’t. That if Jet hadn’t, that man would have shown him the same amount of mercy. But still, the thought made his now empty stomach lurch again. He’d never seen anyone die so terribly before.

Zuko barely noticed the hand on his shoulder until it pulled him back from the ground. He let it take him. The hand curled around his elbow and pulled him back into the woods, away from the now smoldering branches still illuminating the horrible scene. His eyes stayed firmly on the man’s dead body until the bushes obscured his vision.

“Lee?” The voice was familiar. Zuko finally turned his head slightly. It was Katara who had taken him away, her brow creased with worry. “Are you okay?”

How in the world was he supposed to respond to that? He’d just seen a man exsanguinate before his eyes. He clenched his jaw and turned away from her.

The grip on his elbow tightened. Zuko wanted to shake it off, but also felt like it was the one thing tethering him to the earth in that moment. “I’m sorry, Lee. Jet shouldn’t have been so brutal.” Her voice was soft, like she was calming a child. This made him angry, and he finally did jerk her hand off of him.

“It’s fine,” he snapped, refusing to look at her. The ground was swimming under his feet, but he kept himself upright out of sheer force of will. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” Katara said, her voice a little tougher. “I’ve asked him to not use deadly force in the past, but it’s not exactly something that can be avoided. We aren’t them, Lee. We’re better. But sometimes…” She trailed off. Zuko thought again of the blood dripping off the end of the hook sword, falling into the larger puddle like rain into a lake.

A quietness fell over them. It wasn’t the silence that preceded the attack earlier - he could hear the others nearby, and some insects had begun to chirp again. After a moment, Katara sighed.

“Lee, that’s not the last death you’re going to see,” she said. Zuko finally tore his gaze off the ground to look at her. It was the mask of the war general again. The only thing that betrayed it were her eyes, which seemed full of some unfathomable sadness. “If you can’t handle this, it isn’t too late for you to go back to Omashu. I’ll understand.”

He wanted to. Agni, he wanted to. But he couldn’t leave now. He was in this much too deep. With another pang of nausea, he wondered what his uncle would think. What his _father_ would think. He’d seen a citizen of the Fire Nation die before his eyes. That man probably had a family and a life back home - one he’d never be seeing again. At this point, Zuko was no better in his country’s eyes than an accomplice to murder. He could barely look at the woman beside him without remembering the gruesome sight all over again. Still, his voice remained steady.

“I’m staying.”

Katara didn’t say anything. She just nodded, and left him alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. I'm working full time again and this chapter in particular was hard to write.  
> Some songs I listened to while writing this: "Baseball" by Hippo Campus, "San Francisco" by The Mowgli's, "Strangers" by Mt. Joy, and "The Salt and the Sea" by The Lumineers.


	5. The excitement of a thousand or the soothing of your voice

The mountains descended into a thick, never-ending swamp. The brisk air turned into a thick, oppressive heat. It would have felt like the Fire Nation during the monsoon season, but it never rained. The swamp was home to trees that were taller than any building, including the royal palace. If Zuko wasn’t so sweaty and uncomfortable, he’d think they were impressive.

The swamp put everyone on edge, especially Sokka. The Water Tribesman was incredibly disturbed by the large insects, and had to be saved from a particularly persistent elbow leech by Suki. The ground seemed to vary between waist-deep swamp water, soft, sucking mud, and the giant roots of the trees. Toph was the only one who didn’t mind walking through the mud - she practically covered herself in it and bent it into half-solid balls that she’d then throw at Jet. 

It didn’t help that the swamp was dark even during the day, and shadows seemed to be everywhere. Zuko had several moments where he swore he saw someone watching them from the darkened tree roots, but every time he investigated, it’d just be a plant or an animal or nothing at all. Several other members of the group experienced this as well - even Katara was seeing strange things.

One night, when they were settling down for the might amongst the roots of a particularly large banyan tree, Zuko saw a bright flash of yellow light out of the corner of his eye. It made his heart nearly freeze in his chest. Toph, who was sitting against the trunk of the tree a little ways up from him, noticed his sudden discomfort.

“What’s wrong, Sparky?” she asked, sounding bored.

Zuko was staring at the area where he’d seen the flash, waiting for it to happen again. It had looked like someone had been bending fire. He didn’t think that there would be any army presence in the swamp - it was uninhabited and useless. But still, it made him nervous. “I thought I saw something.”

Toph sighed. “You should talk to Sokka. He said he saw a spirit the other day when he went to take a leak. I think he’s losing it.”

Zuko ignored the implied insult. “I’m going to go see what that was,” he said, standing and unsheathing his swords. 

Toph scoffed. “Just don’t get stuck somewhere. I’m too comfortable to rescue another person from the mud.”

He jumped down from the root and splashed down into the water. It was up to his knees and felt like a bath that had been sitting for much too long. But he was used to his clothes being constantly wet at this point, so it no longer mattered. Zuko began to walk in the direction of the strange light.

Another bright flash flew through the dark swamp, illuminating the plants and water around it. Zuko began to walk faster, his feet splashing loudly through the mud. He could have sworn he’d seen a shadow that was distinctly not tree-shaped at the front of the flashes. 

The light from the campfire behind him was fading, and everything was becoming significantly darker. Zuko stopped suddenly, realizing how far from the camp he had wandered. What was he doing? He was going to step into a hole and break his leg, or trip on a root and straight into the waiting mouth of a catgator. He shook his head and turned around, feeling like an idiot.

A third bright white flash suddenly illuminated everything around him. Zuko spun, making the water around him rush out in a wave. The light was several meters away from him, remaining suspended in the air. It was bright enough that he couldn’t look directly at it, but couldn’t penetrate all the shadows around it. It gave off no smell or sound. Zuko barely registered this however, as all of his focus was directed to the figure standing just off to the side of it.

It was a tall, slim woman with her back facing toward him. Her hair was long and black as sea raven feathers, and did not move with the slight breeze. Despite the knee-deep water, the woman seemed to stand above it. The hem of her long, red robe seemed to rest on the water like it was solid earth. The faintest scent of jasmine seemed to waft over him, and Zuko sucked in a sudden, gasping breath.

It was his mother.

Zuko didn’t look away from the figure, lest she disappear. He began to walk slowly toward her, his body so rigid that every step felt like a battle. _It’s not her_ , he reminded himself. The jasmine scent was getting stronger. _She left ten years ago. She’s probably dead._ He was close enough that if he reached out, his fingers would brush the soft fabric of her robe. 

“It’s not real,” he murmured. But still, his shaking hand came up. He could practically feel the warmth radiating from her. His fingers were centimeters from caressing her shoulder.

Then the light blinked out, and Zuko was plunged into darkness.

He remained, frozen, for a very long time. As soon as the light was gone, the jasmine smell was gone too. The presence that had just been in front of him was now empty air. Eventually, Zuko let his hand drop to his side. His face was wet. Distantly, he realized that he was crying.

...

Zuko was quiet throughout the next day’s trek in the swamp. He kept his eyes focused on where he was walking, and refused to acknowledge any sort of shadow or light that flickered at the corner of his vision. He was lagging slightly behind the group. Everyone had caught on to his bad mood almost immediately and was giving him a wide berth, which suited him just fine.

At some point, Katara must have noticed his soured demeanor, as she fell into stride next to him. He tried to make it clear that he didn’t want to talk about it by refusing to look at her and slowing down further, but Katara didn’t push anything. She just kept up beside him, elbow occasionally bumping him as she slogged through the swamp water. Eventually, they were far enough away from the main group that any conversation between them wouldn’t be overheard. Much to Zuko’s annoyance, Katara decided to take advantage of this.

“Are you feeling okay?” she said, almost too quietly to be heard over their sloshing steps. Zuko’s jaw tightened.

“Fine.” The word slipped out through gritted teeth, and he hoped she caught the hint. Apparently, she did not.

“You aren’t acting like you’re fine.” 

Zuko was about to say something nasty when she grabbed his arm, stopping him from going any further. He still didn’t want to look at her, instead raising his gaze to watch the group continue walking further away.

“Why are you stopping?” he growled. “We’re going to lose them.”

“Lee. Look at me.” The tone of her voice told him they weren’t going anywhere until he did what she said. For a brief, stubborn moment Zuko considered testing that theory. But his resolve was weak, so he followed her orders.

Katara looked very tired. The space beneath her eyes was shadowed, and her brown skin did not seem to hold its usual warm undertones. Her hair was significantly frizzier in the swamp air, making the braid look a lot messier than it was. Her skirt had been tied up around her waist, and she was walking through the water in leggings. Zuko wondered if he had a similar bedraggled look about him.

“Did you see something?” she asked, the slightest waver in her tone betraying the fear hidden in her face. Zuko considered lying, but Katara’s searching blue eyes made it practically impossible. 

“Yeah,” he conceded. A slight breeze was making the water ripple around his legs. Zuko inwardly wondered when the last time his feet were dry was.

“What did you see?” Katara pressed. Her voice had lowered to almost a whisper.

Zuko shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t talk about his mother. His father outright forbade discussing her, and Azula only mentioned her to compare Zuko’s weaknesses to hers. Any time Iroh would bring her up, Zuko would shut him down. It wasn’t something that needed to be talked about anyway. She was gone, after all. Just another person who’d abandoned him, who’d helped sculpt him into the failure he was today. 

The thought of her abandonment made the anger rise anew in his gut, and he rounded on Katara with a snarl: “Why do you care so much?” 

Katara didn’t react much to his anger. She was glancing around, as if concerned they were being watched or overheard. The group was far ahead of them now - Zuko could only hear them by their splashing. She took a breath before looking him square in the face. “I saw something too. Some...one.” Katara paused, chewing on her lip. Some of Zuko’s defenses had come down, more out of disbelief than anything. But they completely disappeared when the next words came out of her mouth.

“A ghost.”

Zuko’s jaw had fallen open. Was this whole swamp haunted? “I saw a ghost too,” he said, the words tumbling clumsily from his lips. The tenseness in Katara’s shoulders left suddenly, causing her to almost slump forward.

“Thank the spirits,” she said. “I was afraid I was going crazy.”

“Did you see a...a relative?” He’d begun to wring his hands. The swamp was suddenly feeling a lot more claustrophobic than it had been. The shadows coming off the overhanging branches seemed to move a little too freely, and the sluggish water had taken on a slight chill.

Katara seemed to be carefully considering her words. “I did,” she said, finally. “I saw my mother.”

Zuko’s heart practically stopped in his chest. The world started to blur at the edges of his vision. Katara must have noticed all the blood suddenly leave his face, because she reached forward and grabbed his shoulder. Without thinking, he reached up and grasped the hand like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth. “Your mother?” he choked out.

Katara seemed confused, but let him keep her hand on his shoulder. “Yes,” she said, slowly. “The other day. I was scouting around the camp when I thought I saw her.” Her fingers tightened, and she looked down at the swamp water. Her eyes sparkled with tears. “But it wasn’t. It was just a stump.” She sighed, wiping at her face with her free hand. “It shouldn’t have upset me as much as it did. She’s been dead for ten years.”

Zuko swallowed. He pulled her hand off of his shoulder, but continued to hold it. If he focused on her grasp and nothing else, he could force the words out of his mouth. “I saw my mother too,” he mumbled. Katara remained quiet, letting him press her hand between both of his. He stared intently at the clasped hands, trying to think about the clash of his pale skin against her soft brown and not about his mother’s face. “Last night. I saw her in these bright light flashes. I almost touched her.” He squeezed Katara’s hand tighter. It was probably painful, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let her other hand come up and gently fall against the outside of his.

“Is she dead, too?” she murmured. Her voice had taken on a softness he’d never heard from her before. At that moment, Zuko forgot that they were two people on opposite sides of a war. Instead, they were people who had both lost mothers much too young.

“I don’t know,” he said, softening his clutch on her hand. “She...disappeared when I was ten. I haven’t seen her since then."

“Maybe she’s still out there,” Katara said. Zuko let out a scoff.

“If she is, then she’s been doing a terrible job as a mother,” he said, bitterly. “I’d rather she be dead than knowing she abandoned me.”

Katara flinched, but didn’t pull her hands away. She just gave him a very sad look. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Lee.” She sighed. “I know I’d give anything to have my mother be out there somewhere, alive.”

Zuko felt a twinge of regret at speaking so unforgivingly. “Could she? Be alive, I mean.”

Katara gently slipped her hands out of Zuko’s grip and took a step back. His hands were suddenly much too cold. Zuko wondered if he’d said something wrong.

“No,” Katara said, a cold finality in her tone. The gentleness in her face had all but vanished, leaving it an impassive mask. “I saw her die in front of my eyes.”

The breeze picked up, and Zuko shivered. What was he supposed to say to something like that? He fumbled for some sort of apology, but none of the words seemed right. Meanwhile, Katara was looking away from him, her arms crossed protectively across her chest.

“Are you guys coming or do you want to live in the swamp now?” The yell rang through the trees, making both of them jump. It was Sokka, who had traced back towards them and was standing half up on a tree root. He had a very impatient look on his face, and was tapping the root with his muddied machete. A portion of the group was a little bit in front of them, looking just as miserable and annoyed.

“We’re coming!” Katara called back to her brother. She looked back at Zuko, her gaze lingering on his hands, which had fallen uselessly to his sides. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Zuko was unsure if he could form words that made sense, so he just nodded. Katara looked at him for a second longer and then turned and began trekking through the water towards Sokka. Zuko waited a moment, and then followed.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how soft her hands had been.

...

Coming upon the denizens of the swamp was unexpected, to say the least. The fact that anyone would choose to live in such a place baffled Zuko, and that was a consensus shared by most of their group. Katara had been excited to meet them because they also happened to be waterbenders, and Sokka was happy to find people who could point them in the right direction. 

The Foggy Swamp Tribe was made up of very welcoming people, which felt strange in the current state of the world. Right away they were referring to Sokka and Katara as ‘kin’, and offering the entire journeying party food and a place to rest. Zuko initially turned up his nose at the large, dead insect offered to him, but his growling stomach helped him change his mind. He closed his eyes and imagined komodo chicken.

“Have any of you seen any Fire Nation soldiers come through here?” Jet asked at the end of the meal.

One of the more social members of the Tribe, a skinny man named Du, frowned. “No one comes through here,” he said, scratching underneath the large leaf on his head. “‘Cept you guys, ‘course.”

“Soldiers?” another Tribe member, Tho, said. His eyebrows creased in confusion. “Why would there be soldiers?”

Sokka had been closely watching the tame-ish catgator sitting at the edge of the campfire behind Du, but turned around at these words with an incredulous look on his face. “Uh, the war? You know, that thing that’s been going on for a hundred years?”

One of the older members of the Tribe, a man named Huu, looked troubled at this. “We haven’t had contact with outsiders since ‘fore we broke off from the southern Water Tribe. And that was a long time ago.”

“No one’s bothered us,” Tho muttered. “Doubt they even know we’re here.”

Toph scoffed. “The Fire Nation probably didn’t want to get their prissy little feet wet.” This made Zuko bristle, but he held his tongue. She was kind of right, anyway. 

“I’m glad they haven’t bothered you,” Katara said. “The other Water Tribes haven’t been so lucky.” Her face took on a dark shadow that made a wave of guilt wash over Zuko. 

Tho and Du exchanged a look. Both seemed confused. “But I thought y’all were too isolated for any sort of invasion,” Du drawled. “Like us.”

Sokka let out a long sigh. He had been passing his boomerang between his hands throughout the conversation, and now he was gripping it hard enough to make his knuckles pale. “Unfortunately,” he growled, “that is no longer the case.”

A tense quiet settled over the group, only broken by the crackles of the fire. The Swamp Tribesmen all exchanged looks with each other, varying levels of concern on their faces. Huu leaned closer to Katara and Sokka, his voice low so anyone outside the campfire would be unable to hear.

“What have they done to you?”

Katara and Sokka looked at each other. Katara reached over one hand and placed it over her brother’s, which had nearly snapped the boomerang he was holding in half.

“The south was hit harder, because it was less protected,” Katara said, her voice barely above a whisper. “They came for the benders at first. Took them prisoner.” She swallowed. Zuko looked down at his mud-covered boots. He knew the history of the raids of the south, but hearing it from the mouth of someone who had lived through it made him feel even more sick about it than usual. As Katara continued, he wished he hadn’t eaten at all. “Then they just started killing us.”

“What?” Tho said, jolting upright. “Why would they do something like that?”

“They think they’re better than us,” Sokka said. There was no trace of the usual jovialness on his face. He took the boomerang he had been messing with and violently slammed it into the dirt, making Suki flinch beside him. “But they knew we’d never submit to them. So they took away everything that they could. To make us weak.”

“But you’re still alive,” Huu pointed out. He nodded to Katara. “And you’re a bender.”

Katara sighed. “The very last one.”

Tho, who seemed to be getting increasingly more worried, stood up suddenly. “Who’s to say they won’t come for us next?” he said, panic lending a higher pitch to his tone. “ _We’re_ waterbenders, too!”

Du stood up beside his friend, clenching his fists. “They’d have to get to us first,” he growled. “I’d like to see ‘em try and take us away!” The catgator behind him snapped its teeth as if in agreement.

Huu raised a calming hand. “Y’all settle down now. The Fire Nation doesn’t even know we’re out here. And the swamp is on our side.” He reached out and patted the root of the banyan tree behind them. “We’re safe.”

Toph wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t be so sure, Plant Man. Ba Sing Se thought they were safe, too. But the Fire Nation breached their walls and took over. These days, no one is safe.” Tho and Du had sat back down when Huu had calmed them, but now they looked ready to jump up again. Some of the puddles around them had started to ripple.

“But there’s something you can do,” Katara said suddenly, her eyes brightening. “You can help us.” Huu appeared disconcerted with this, but Tho and Du leaned forward expectantly. Katara took this as an invitation to continue. “We’re part of a resistance group working towards freeing the world from Fire Nation tyranny. We’ve already taken back Omashu. You can help us with our next step.”

“Well, what is it?” Du asked, rubbing his hands together. 

“Yeah,” Tho added, looking just as interested. “It’s soundin’ like these folks need an ass kickin’. I’m more than ready to deliver.”

“Our next target is Ba Sing Se,” Katara said. “We need all the support we can get. If you could meet us there -”

“And leave the swamp?” Huu said, balking. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. It’d be puttin’ us in the direct line of conflict with those Fire Nation folks. They don’t even know we’re here. If we help you attack them, they’ll know about us for certain.”

Katara reached out and put a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “I understand your concerns,” she said, gently. “But I think you should consider our plea. We need all the help we can get.”

“We are a peaceful people,” Huu mumbled. But his resolve seemed to be waning as he looked at Katara’s hand. 

Sensing this, Sokka pushed further. “The actual takeover won’t be for a while yet. And we have many people already on our side, helping to turn the tide. And having more waterbenders there would show them that they can’t keep the Water Tribes down.”

“Huu, we gotta,” Tho said, leaning into the old man. “For our kin.”

“And everybody else, too,” Du added.

Huu looked at the people around the campfire, then further around them at the rest of his people. “I will have to speak with the other elders,” he said finally. He stood, and Katara and Sokka stood as well. He reached forward and grabbed Katara’s forearm with his opposite hand. She returned the gesture. Zuko vaguely remembered it from when he first met her. This time, however, the two waterbenders leaned forward and let their foreheads rest together for a moment. 

“We will help you,” Huu said, pulling away. “If we can.”

...

With the help of the Foggy Swamp Tribe, the group was able to leave the swamp with only one more day’s travel. As soon as they were out of the tree line, Zuko practically wanted to bend over and kiss the solid ground. He’d never been so happy to see dry dirt in all his life. Most of the rest of the group seemed to agree, but Toph shrugged indifferently.

“I kinda liked bending mud,” she said. “It was an interesting challenge.”

They continued southeast, avoiding the Si Wong Desert and heading towards the coastal Shia mountain range. It was a longer route, but one where they were more likely to run into people, which Sokka said was more important. Jet leaned more toward the idea that getting there faster was better, but Suki, Katara, and Toph vehemently disagreed. Zuko hung back during these conversations, as he usually did. Despite the time he had spent with these people, he still felt very much like an outsider. Personally, he sided with their current course - the more time he had before being near Azula again, the better.

The trees had entirely tapered off, giving way to grassland spotted with the occasional farm. They rarely came across anyone, but the people who did see them were more focused on tending their fields than staring at a group of travelers. Still, Zuko’s skin prickled every time he caught the gaze of a farmer from under their wide-brimmed hat. It was like they saw right through him.

They stopped for the night in an abandoned barn close to the side of the road. The farmhouse that had accompanied it had long since burned down; all that was left were two semi-crumbled walls. The barn fared slightly better - while the walls were slightly blackened, they were still standing. There was a large hole in the roof, but with no rain in sight Zuko was happy to ignore it. After several nights of sleeping in the mud, any form of shelter felt like a luxury.

As they set up camp for the night, Jet climbed up to the roof of the barn and disappeared through the hole. This didn’t seem to faze his posse very much, but it did make Sokka even more grouchy.  
“What, is he planning to sleep up there or something?” he grumbled, setting up his bedroll in the hay next to Suki. 

The Kyoshi warrior seemed just as tired. “Who cares?” she said, stifling a yawn. “It’s not like you can stop him.”

Sokka scoffed. “What a weirdo.”

“He’s not a weirdo!” The Duke yelled from across the barn. The young boy was standing with his hands on his hips. Pipsqueak stood just behind the boy, mirroring his stance and looking significantly more threatening. “He’s keeping us safe!”

“From what?” Toph asked incredulously. Her voice echoed from inside the stone tent she had erected. “Stray pig-chickens?”

“Mmm, pig-chickens…” Sokka had settled into his bedroll and pulled the blanket over his head, apparently done with the conversation.

“Jet can do whatever he wants,” Katara said. She was looking a little more awake than everyone else, and was going through some bending forms. Zuko tried not to stare as she went through a low, slow movement.

As if summoned by his name, Jet reappeared through the hole in the roof. He swung down onto the loft and crouched there, hook swords lodged into the wooden supports. “There’s a village,” he said. His dark eyes glittered with excitement. “It’s just over the next hill.”

“Great,” Katara said, not pausing her forms. “We can go there tomorrow and get supplies.”

Jet shook his head. “Katara, they’re flying Fire Nation colors.”

She stopped suddenly, as if Jet’s words had turned her to ice. Slowly, she came out of the form and turned to face him. “How large is the village?”

Jet grinned. “A hundred people or less. We could take them.”

Sokka sat up suddenly, looking very awake and annoyed. “Uh, no, we will not be doing that. At all. Remember the whole ‘not be detected by the Fire Nation’ thing? Or are you as stupid as you look?”

Jet’s grin turned into a snarl. “What sort of resistance would we be if we didn’t resist? Or should we just let this place stay the way it is - a stain on the Earth Kingdom?”

“And what do you suggest we do?” Suki asked, crossing her arms. “We’ve been traveling all day. We’re in no shape to wage an attack on an entire village. Also, how do you know there aren’t Earth Kingdom people still living there?”

“The village is lost!” Jet said, flinging his swords downward in frustration. Zuko flinched when they embedded themselves in the wooden barn floor. Jet jumped down after them. “It would be a mercy to burn the place down while they sleep. They’re firebenders - it’d look like one of them did it.”

Zuko felt a shiver of disgust race down his back. Even Jet’s friends looked uncomfortable with the idea. Smellerbee and Longshot were exchanging worried whispers at the edge of the barn, their gazes flicking between Jet and each other.

Katara’s eyes narrowed at Jet. She seemed surprisingly calm. “You know what?” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “We’ll go check it out.”

“Katara! You can’t be serious!” Sokka said, stepping forward toward his sister. “Have you not listened to _anything_ I said?”

Jet was smiling again, and pulled his swords out of the floor. “I _knew_ you’d get it,” he said, his words overlapping Sokka’s. “I think we should wait a little while, then we can go -”

Katara rounded on Jet. “ _We_ are not going _anywhere_ ,” she said firmly. “And no one’s burning down any villages. Unless you’re thinking of joining the Fire Nation army, Jet - you know first hand how good they are at doing just _that_.” Jet blanched, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Katara turned towards Sokka. “In the name of reconnaissance, Sokka, I think we should check it out. We’ll be less easy to recognize at night. And if there is a single Earth Kingdom person in that town that needs help, we _will_ help them.” Sokka threw up his arms and walked back to his bedroll, like he knew it was an argument he’d be unable to win. “I’ll take Toph and Lee with me.”

Zuko blinked in surprise. “What?” he said, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Toph said from inside her rock tent. “I just got comfortable!”

“You two are the only ones who don’t have an opinion on this,” Katara said, shrugging. 

Jet seemed to have recovered from Katara’s words and was now fuming with rage. He walked stiff-legged toward her, fists clenched at his sides. Katara turned to face him, her stance relaxed. Zuko tensed. Even though he knew that if Jet tried to do anything to her she would immediately and fiercely incapacitate him, he still felt a need to jump to her aid the second Jet did something threatening.

“I saw the village!” Jet said, the words coming out through clenched teeth. “It’s crawling with Fire Nation soldiers! You’re letting pity cloud your judgment, Katara.”

“And you’re letting anger cloud yours,” Katara bit back. “You aren’t going, Jet. If I need to freeze you to this floor, I will.”

For a moment, it seemed like Jet was going to argue again. Instead, he turned on his heel and jumped up into the loft. Katara sighed as soon as he was out of sight. It was like part of her deflated suddenly. She turned her bright blue gaze on Smellerbee and Longshot. “Will you guys keep an eye on him, please?”

“Yeah, sure,” Smellerbee mumbled, looking at her feet. Zuko couldn’t tell if she was upset about Katara’s denial of her friend or if she was ashamed at Jet’s conduct. Longshot seemed more sure of himself as he nodded.

“Good,” Katara said. She gestured to Zuko. “Let’s go check this place out.”

...

The three of them followed the road to the village. It was small and dusty, and rather quiet. Most of the buildings were dark, save for a few candles here and there. True to Jet’s word, the bell tower at the center of the village had a Fire Nation banner hanging off its roof. It was frayed at the edges, meaning it had probably been there a while. Zuko wouldn’t be surprised if this town had been occupied for several years.

One building looked especially promising. It was one of the larger ones, with an upper level and several brightened windows. There was one simple symbol above the doorway: Inn. Through the open windows, Zuko could hear raucous laughter and clinking cups.

“Sounds like fun,” Toph said. Beneath the hood of her oversized cloak, she was grinning. “Can we look in there?”

Katara had been relatively quiet since they’d left the barn. She was staring at the banner on the bell tower, her mouth a thin line. Toph elbowed her side with maybe a tad too much force.

“I _said_ ,” she repeated, “can we look inside the bar?”

“It’s an inn,” Zuko mumbled. Toph scoffed.

“Well, it sure smells like a bar,” she said. As if to illustrate her point, she took in a long, loud sniff. “Ah, the sweet, sweet smell of people getting fucked up.” Zuko wrinkled his nose. She wasn’t wrong - the whole area around the inn seemed to have a bitter undercurrent. It was unpleasant, to say the least. 

“If you think you’re drinking anything, you’re out of your mind,” Katara hissed. “We’re just going to look around and see what sort of people are inside.” She was pulling her cloak tighter around her body. It was a good call, considering her Water Tribe ethnicity would be difficult to miss. She began to walk purposefully toward the inn entrance, Zuko and Toph on her heels. 

“The legal drinking age in the Earth Kingdom is sixteen,” Toph grumbled. “And here you are, Sugar Queen, depriving me of my one legal pleasure.”

Katara shot Toph a glare before realizing she couldn’t see it. She let out a loud sigh instead. “Now is _not_ the time for this conversation. Just lay low, for spirits’ sake.”

As soon as she pushed open the door, a strong waft of the alcohol smell from earlier practically slapped Zuko in the face. But he couldn’t think about that - he was too busy trying to stop his heart from beating out of his chest. The entire inn was _filled_ with Fire Nation soldiers. Everywhere he looked were clusters of red and black. There had to be at least fifty soldiers in there, if not more.

Katara froze in place, causing Toph to crash into her from behind. “Hey!” the young earthbender cried out. “What are you doing?” A few soldiers turned at the noise, and Zuko grabbed Toph’s bicep and squeezed warningly. She seemed to grasp the message, and her jaw snapped shut. Katara turned around quickly, her blue eyes meeting Zuko’s. 

“Let’s go sit,” she said, calmly. Zuko tried not to stare at the soldiers who were still lazily appraising them. Something told him outsiders were not a common sight at this place. Katara grabbed Toph’s hand and walked purposefully toward an empty table. They all sat clustered on one side, Zuko and Katara pressing Toph in between them.

“What’s the big deal?” Toph muttered, wrenching her hand out of Katara’s grip. “You guys are acting like we just walked into a cave of platypus bears.”

“This place is full of Fire Nation soldiers,” Katara said, her voice barely audible over the din. “There’s gotta be fifty in here.”

Toph was quiet for a moment. Then, “Fifty-six people. Including the bartender and innkeeper.”

“There’s an entire platoon in here,” Zuko mumbled, half to himself. He was searching faces and uniforms, looking for their commanding officer. He eventually spotted her by the golden circle on the front plate of her armor. He didn’t recognize her, which was a relief. She seemed relaxed, laughing with several other soldiers around her.

“I don’t think anyone’s on duty,” Katara muttered. Her bright eyes flitted around the room, her mouth twisted in distaste. “This place is probably pretty boring to be stationed in.”

“Fire Nation soldiers don’t go off duty,” Zuko said, only paying some attention to the conversation. He felt so on edge that his shoulders were starting to hurt from being tensed. 

“How do you know that?” Toph asked, snorting a laugh. “They feel pretty off duty to me.”

Before he could answer, the few soldiers that had noticed their entrance got up from their table and began to walk toward them. Zuko dug his fingernails into the table and tried not to immediately reach for his swords. The soldiers had the easy gait of people who’d had more than a few drinks. They probably didn’t pose much of a threat. Still, he didn’t like the sloppy grin on the leader’s face, or the way his amber eyes focused on Katara’s cloaked figure.

“Stay calm,” Katara hissed. She held her head slightly higher, but moved her hands to her hips, where her water skin was.

“Tell that to Sparky,” Toph snarked. “He’s freaking out. I think he might pee himself.”

“I am _not_ going to pee myself,” Zuko retorted. “And I’m _not_ freaking out!”

Toph didn’t look like she believed him, but before she could say something else the soldiers had arrived at their table.

“I don’t think I’ve seen any of you around town,” the leader said. He seemed to be talking to all of them, but he didn’t look away from Katara. He took a seat on the bench across from her and leaned forward. The other two soldiers sat beside him. “My name is Aijaro. These are my friends, Mejon and Chozah.”

“We’re just passing through,” Katara said calmly. Her face was impassive. 

“What a shame,” Aijaro drawled. He was holding a small clay cup that was a third of the way full with a strong-smelling, clear liquid. Zuko thought it might be _baijiu_ , but it smelled a lot stronger than what was served at the palace. Aijaro took a swift gulp of the drink and grimaced, showing yellowed teeth. “There’s a shortage of pretty girls in this Agni-damned place.”

Katara’s eyebrow twitched, and her mouth tightened. Toph just laughed. “How kind of you,” she said, in a voice that was much higher and sweeter than her usual tone. “But my cousin Xemi is a boy.”

Zuko shot her a glare as the soldier’s collective gaze fell on him. Aijaro’s lip twisted slightly, as if in disgust. “I wasn’t talking about him,” he grumbled. He turned back to Katara, the slimy smile finding its way back on to his features. “What’s your name, little flower?” Zuko clenched his teeth at the disgustingly sweet tone of Aijaro’s voice.

Katara didn’t say anything. Her eyes narrowed further. Toph cleared her throat. “My apologies, Aijaro,” she tittered. “She’s shy. Her name is Nin.”

“Nin,” Aijaro murmured. He dipped his head. “May I buy you a drink? Perhaps a rice wine?”

Zuko could feel himself bristling. He stared hard at Aijaro and wished he could burn the man with just the intensity of his glare. Katara only blinked. “No, thank you,” she said, curtly. 

“Then why are you here?” one of the other soldiers - Mejon - said. He seemed more focused on Toph, but also was a little too far gone to care. His helmet rested askew on his head. “There’s nothing else to do in this shithole.”

Toph blinked innocently, cocking her head to the side. “It’s strange that they have you posted here,” she said, carefully avoiding the initial question. “Such strong soldiers - shouldn’t you be at the frontlines?” Privately, Zuko thought that these men wouldn’t last a day on the frontlines. But Toph’s compliment made them sit a little straighter and puff out their chests.

“We’ve been here for three years,” Chozah added. He was sitting directly across from Zuko, and didn’t look too much older than him. The armor looked slightly too large, and had definitely never seen combat. “The Earth Kingdom peasants need our protection.”

Zuko had to focus on not rolling his eyes. This was probably the most useless platoon in the entire Fire Nation army, if these dolts were any indication. Still, the jittery energy didn’t leave his body. Zuko began to tap his fingers on his knees.

Aijaro was still staring at Katara. To her credit, she remained stoic and stared right back, a silent challenge on her face. Toph continued to milk Mejon and Chozah for information, hiding it in flirty quips and weirdly girly giggles. Zuko watched as Aijaro leaned forward to whisper something to Katara. The hand that wasn’t holding his drink crept forward slowly until his fingers brushed the knuckles of her clenched fist resting on the tabletop. Zuko could no longer hear what Toph was saying to the soldiers - his heartbeat was so loud in his ears that it drowned out everything.

He stood suddenly, rocking the table slightly as he did so. All eyes turned on him. Aijaro drew his hand back slightly from Katara’s. She had turned her glare on to Zuko, and gave him a very slight shake of her head. The message was clear: _sit down, you’re making a scene._

“I’m going to get something to eat,” Zuko said, fighting to keep his voice neutral. Without waiting for a reaction, he walked briskly toward the counter at the back of the inn. He could practically feel the sparks at his fingertips, and took several deep breaths to make the feeling go away. It wasn’t helpful to be reacting the way he was, despite how much he wanted to punch Aijaro’s leering face.

The innkeeper was a thin, elderly woman. A younger man, probably her son or grandson, was acting as a barkeeper. Several soldiers were clustered at the countertop. Zuko raised his head, squared his shoulders, and pushed through them. They grumbled and complained at his rudeness, but one glance at his hardened expression made them reconsider challenging him. The innkeeper looked nervous as she approached him - her eyes seemed to be constantly flicking between his swords and his scar.

“Good evening,” she said, her soft voice almost not reaching his ears. “Can I help you with something?”

“What’s in the pot?” Zuko asked, gesturing with his chin toward the large iron pot hanging in the fireplace. The woman looked over at the pot as well, as if she’d forgotten it was there.

“Dinner,” she answered. “It’s pig-chicken soup. Two copper pieces for a bowl.”

It was a remarkably low price. Luckily, when he reached into the satchel at his hip, he had the funds to pay for it. The woman accepted the money and grabbed a wooden bowl from beneath the counter. When she opened the iron lid, a billow of steam escaped into the chimney. She ladled hot soup into the bowl and passed it into Zuko’s hands. It smelled strongly of ginger.

“Are you a soldier?” she asked. Her pale brown eyes were heavy with dark circles.

For the first time in his life, the idea of being affiliated with the people surrounding him filled him with disgust. “No,” he answered tersely. The woman chewed her lip, as if deciding whether or not to say something. Her attention briefly focused on something behind him before coming back.

“Be careful,” she murmured. “The soup is very hot.”

Zuko nodded a brief thanks, turning away from her strangely intense gaze. It was true - the bowl was rather warm in his hands. If he weren’t used to the heat, it might bother him. He began to walk back to the table where Katara, Toph, and the unwelcome soldiers sat. Then he saw something that froze him in place.

From his position in the room, he could see the side of the table where Katara and Aijaro were facing each other. The soldier was leaning forward into Katara’s face, blocking her expression from Zuko’s view. What he could see, however, was Aijaro’s large hand resting just above Katara’s knee. Her cloak had been pushed aside, revealing the thin leggings she wore under her skirt. As Zuko watched, the soldier’s hand began to slowly crawl further up her leg, the tips of his fingers disappearing beneath the hem of her dress.

He didn’t think much after that. 

Zuko stepped forward and threw the scalding bowl of soup on the back of Aijaro’s neck. The man immediately shot upwards, screaming. His cup fell onto the floor and shattered into several pieces. The entire inn became silent, and everyone turned to see what was going on.

Aijaro whipped around, his face contorted with rage. He grabbed the front of Zuko’s cloak and pulled him forward. Aijaro was a large man, but was not taller than him. Still, his grip was extremely strong, and his breath was rancid. “What the _fuck_ did you just do, colony trash?” he snarled.

Zuko tried to keep his face impassive, but couldn’t help but let a small sneer pull his lip up. “Sorry,” he said flatly, “I tripped.”

“He did,” Toph said, a mischievous grin on her face. “I saw it.”

With his free hand, Aijaro pulled a knife from his belt. Several soldiers around them stood up, although whether it was to support or stop their comrade was unclear. Zuko stared straight into Aijaro’s eyes, daring him to try something.

“Put him down,” Katara said. Her voice had turned dangerous. Aijaro rolled his eyes.

“This your boyfriend, or something?” he sneered. “I think you could do a lot better, sweetheart. I could give you are really good fuc-”

Aijaro flew backwards onto the table as Zuko kicked him hard in the stomach. The knife went flying across the room. The wood table broke under the soldier’s weight, and Katara and Toph had to leap out of the way to avoid being crushed. Mejon and Chozah, however, were not so lucky. The three lay in a tangled heap amongst the broken wood, looking very confused.

Several people started yelling all at once. A nearby soldier grabbed Zuko’s arm, and out of instinct he swung around and punched them in the jaw. The soldier stumbled backwards and fell. Other soldiers were struggling to get near him, drunkenly stumbling over chairs and tables. Another soldier threw a barely controlled fireball toward him. It missed and landed on a table, which immediately burst into flame. The inn descended into chaos as soldiers screamed and yelled. Some were trying to get to him, others were trying to control the growing blaze.

Zuko was faintly aware of a hand grabbing his wrist. He almost swung at the person until he realized it was Katara. She was tugging him and Toph toward the door, trying to avoid the writhing mass of bodies that now clogged the floor of the inn. In the confusion, a few soldiers had accidentally hit each other, and now several other fights had broken out. Toph stopped suddenly and struck a bending stance, bringing her hands up in a swift, strong movement. A large wall of rock erupted beside the door, pushing soldiers out of the way so the three of them could escape. 

They ran from the inn, escaping into the darkness between the buildings along the main town stretch. Katara didn’t stop until they were well outside of the town and over the hill. The barn had just come into sight as she finally let them go, leaning over her knees to catch her breath.

“Wow,” Toph said, breathing heavily. “That was _way_ more fun than buying alcohol!”

Zuko’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest it felt like it might explode. His body felt _alive_ , like bolts of electricity were running up and down his skin. His breath was coming hard and fast, but he felt no fear. Oddly enough, he was feeling _excited_. The feeling immediately fled when Katara stomped forward and gave him a short, hard smack on the side of his head.

“Ow!” he said, rubbing the spot. “What was that for?”

She was definitely not happy, but Zuko had seen her angrier. “For putting yourself and all of us in danger!” She crossed her arms, her blue eyes blazing. “Lee, what in Tui and La’s names were you thinking?”

Zuko bristled. “Are you serious? I did you a favor! That man was being -” _Dishonorable. A disgrace to his nation. Well-deserving of an ass-kicking._ “- being very rude!” It sounded extremely lame to his ears, and he felt his cheeks heat up. 

Katara smacked her forehead. “I’m well aware of that!” she said, frustrated. “But I can handle that without you _starting a fight_.”

“To be fair,” Toph interjected, snickering, “he did trip.”

Katara rounded on her. “Don’t encourage him!”

As the adrenaline left his body, Zuko began to see her point. He had started a fight in a place where they were outnumbered ten-to-one, when Katara could have handled the situation herself. Still, he felt stung about it. “He deserved it,” he muttered, looking down at the ground.

Katara sighed. “He did,” she conceded. “Even if pouring soup on someone is a little childish.” Zuko couldn’t help a small smile pull at the edge of his mouth. He glanced up at Katara. All the anger had left her, and now she just watched him with a softened look on her face. Something about it made his heart jump in his chest.

“It looks like I was the only one who got _anything_ done today,” Toph said, crossing her arms. “You two need to get better at interacting with people you don’t like.”

Katara laughed. “You’re right, Toph. You are the pinnacle of charisma and we should all aspire to follow in your footsteps.” She began to walk down the hill towards the barn. Toph kept pace with her, pretending to toss hair over her shoulder.

“That’s what I’ve _been_ saying,” she said. “You guys just need to listen to me more.”

Zuko watched them go for a moment. For the very first time in his life, he’d fought soldiers from his own country and felt completely guiltless about it. _It’s different_ , he thought to himself. _They deserved it. They were assholes._ He started down the hill after the two women. 

It was probably best if he didn’t think about it too much. Because if he did, he’d wonder if he was even on the right side after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs I listened to while writing this: "Broom People" by The Mountain Goats, "No One's Gonna Love You (Stockholm Version)" by Band of Horses, "Raise Hell" by Brandi Carlile, and "Chelsea Dagger" by The Fratellis. As you can tell, there are two different vibes to this chapter (lol).


	6. put your emptiness to melody

For the next week, the group trekked up out of the plains and into the Shia mountains. The plants slowly became more and more sparse, until they were just clumps of shrubs dotting the dry, rocky landscape. Zuko was grateful that the heat of summer had mostly passed, because the cool air that accompanied autumn offset the strength of the sunlight. Still, he often found his skin on his hands cracked and painful, and sunburns made his face a permanent shade of pink. Toph, the only other member of the group with skin as pale as his, also seemed to be suffering the effects of constant, uninterrupted sun. Getting into the canyons was a blessing, as they could once again have some shade.

The journey had begun to wear on them all. It felt like they mostly walked in near silence, going from sunrise to sunset without much stopping. The only one of them who didn’t seem to be suffering from blisters was Toph, whose feet were toughened from years of choosing to be barefoot. 

One night, as everyone set up camp for the evening next to a rare creek, Zuko witnessed Katara doing something he hadn’t seen before. She was sitting on the bank of the creek with her hands and feet submerged. An odd blue glow was emanating from the water. No one else seemed to notice or care that she was doing this - everyone seemed occupied with finishing dinner or talking around the campfire, which was a little ways away from the edge of the water.

Zuko took his empty bowl over to the creek under the pretense of washing it, but mostly he wanted to get a closer look at whatever Katara was doing. He knelt a few meters downstream of her and began to wash his dish, but angled his head just enough so he could look at her out of the corner of his good eye. 

She was definitely bending the water - it swirled in a small, gentle whirlpool around her. The water closest to her hands and feet was glowing. It reminded Zuko of the green-glowing stones beneath Omashu, except the brightest light seemed contained to where her skin touched the water. Katara was staring down at it with a very intense concentration. The sun was setting behind them, and her face was lit with the rippling blue reflection beneath her.

“Do you need something, Lee?” she asked, not looking away from the glowing stream. Zuko flushed. Apparently his observation had been more obvious than he’d thought.

“No,” he answered. He pulled the bowl out of the stream and set it upside down on a rock. He’d retrieve it for breakfast in the morning, when it was dry. “Sorry.” He wasn’t sure why he was apologizing, but it felt like the right thing to say when one was caught watching someone. 

Katara smiled slightly. “You don’t need to be sorry. Not a lot of people see waterbenders healing on a regular basis.” She took her hands out of the water. The glow immediately disappeared, and the stream went back to its normal flow. She flicked her hands, and the water that still coated them deposited itself back into the stream.

Zuko had heard of waterbending being used for healing, but had never actually seen it practiced. His uncle had said that it was a skill unlike any held by any other form of bender - the ability to transfer chi from one’s element to one’s body. “You were healing?” he asked, and almost smacked himself at the dumbness of the question. She’d literally just told him she’d been doing that. Katara didn’t admonish him for it though. Instead, she gestured for Zuko to come closer. He hesitantly made his way over to her, sitting cross-legged next to her on the bank of the creek.

“I didn’t feel like yelling downstream,” she explained, leaning back into a relaxed position. She kicked her feet slightly in the water, making tiny splashes. Zuko felt awkwardly tense beside her. Ever since the swamp, being alone with her made weird feelings rise in his gut. They weren’t bad feelings just...strange ones. His relationship with the leader of the resistance was becoming much too complicated for his liking, and that spelled bad news down the line. Katara didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, however. She watched the stream tumble over the stones, a relaxed look on her face.

“Not a lot of combat waterbenders also heal,” she said conversationally. “My Gran-gran once told me that up north, benders have to choose between specializing in healing or combat.” She frowned. “Of course, that usually was a divide between the sexes.”

Zuko’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Why would they do that? Shouldn’t all aspects of your element be studied? How do you have one without the other?” He was mostly trying to line up waterbending with what he knew about firebending. If healing was the next step in control, much like how bending lightning was, then wouldn’t they need to master the basics first? Also, what was the point of denying half of the population an entire waterbending technique?

Katara laughed. “You talk like someone who knows a lot about how bending works.” Zuko’s breath stopped for a moment, afraid he’d been found out. But Katara continued without questioning it further. “You’re right - it’s silly that they only let women heal and men fight. But most waterbenders can’t do both.” She moved her hand in a smooth motion over the creek, drawing up a small, glittering stream of water. She began to bend it in a circle around her hand, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Zuko followed the slow circles with his eyes, impressed with her control.

“Apparently it’s a gift,” she said, “to be able to heal and fight.” She followed this with a wry laugh, and let the water drop back into the stream. “My brother says it’s because I’m so stubborn. That I have to explore every single aspect of my bending no matter what.” A slight shadow crossed her face for a moment, then was gone before Zuko could question it. “Anyway. I had a ton of blisters. So I was healing them.”

Zuko huffed a laugh. “I wish I could do that.” He opened his hands, which were cracked open in several places. “I think my skin has seen better days.”

Katara raised an eyebrow at the state of his hands. “Wow. That looks painful.” She chewed on her lip, as if considering something. Her gaze flicked between his hands and his face. He could just barely see her cheeks darken in the shadows of the sunset. “Um. I don’t usually...I mean…I could…”

Zuko’s breath caught before a wave of embarrassment coursed over him. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his hands back. “I wasn’t trying to ask. I don’t want to - um - you don’t have to -” He was stumbling terribly over his words, which made him even more embarrassed. _Of course_ he’d managed to make a situation weird right after she’d opened up about something personal to her. She probably thought he was taking advantage, and that was the _last_ thing he wanted her to think of him -

His racing thoughts ground to a halt when Katara grabbed his receding hands, pulling them gently toward her. “Lee,” she said, laughing. “Calm down. These look like they hurt. Let me help you.”

The blush that always seemed to accompany any time Katara touched him was once again lighting his face on fire. At least his hair had grown out enough that it nearly covered his ears. “You don’t have to,” he repeated. But he let his hands remain in her grasp. 

Katara rolled her eyes. “It’s not a big deal. Sokka used to make me heal every single cut he ever got.” She removed one hand and dipped it into the stream. When she brought it back up, it was coated entirely in water - like a clear, rippling glove. “Just relax.”

Zuko did not think he could manage that. Still, he let out a breath, untenseing his shoulders as he did so. Katara brought her hand back to where she held his. The water slowly enveloped both of their hands. The hairs on his arms stood up at the coldness of the water. Katara adjusted her grip so her palms rested on top of his, her fingers brushing his wrists. And then, the water started to glow.

The feeling was strange at first, but not unpleasant. The water began to get warmer, until it felt like he had submerged his hands up to the wrist in a freshly drawn bath. The areas where his hands were split open were especially warm, and the water seemed to pull and fill the wounds at the same time. Katara had closed her eyes, the same expression of concentration once more on her face. Slowly, the pain that had been throbbing in his hands for days began to fade away.

It was an oddly intimate experience. As she healed him, her hands moved in small, slow circles. Where her skin touched his, it was almost like she was caressing him. If he closed his eyes, he could believe she was.

It felt almost too soon when Katara drew her hands back from his. The glow faded, and the warm water was drawn away from him. Zuko brought his hands closer to his face in order to get a better look at them. They looked a lot better - no longer dry and cracked but soft and smooth. He still had some raised calluses from where he gripped his swords, but other than that his hands looked brand new. He opened and closed his fingers, and sighed in relief when no pain came with the action.

“They’re not perfect, obviously,” Katara said quickly. She flicked the water off of her hands and back into the stream. Her face was definitely flushed, and she seemed to be focused on not looking at him. “I can really only heal recent wounds, and I figured you wanted to keep the calluses anyway.”

“That was amazing,” Zuko breathed, still inspecting his hands. He turned them over. The other side was also free of the painful splits in his skin. “Katara, you’re amazing.”

Her face darkened more, and she cleared her throat. “It’s no big deal. Like I said, I did it for Sokka all the time.”

“Still,” Zuko murmured. He met her gaze. “Thank you.”

She held his eyes for a moment. Her mouth opened slightly, like she was going to say something. Zuko waited, his heart beating very quickly in his chest. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing several times at her parted lips. He wondered what would happen if he leaned forward and closed the gap between them.

Katara stood up suddenly, breaking the moment. Zuko blinked a few times, feeling somewhat disoriented. “I have to talk to Sokka about something,” she said quickly. Then she turned on one foot and was walking away, her arms ramrod straight at her sides.

Zuko stared at the place she had been sitting and wondered what in Agni’s name he was doing.

...

Traveling through the canyons was proving to be a grueling, exhausting experience. Much of the group was starting to complain - the majority of Jet’s crew were loudly proclaiming that they should have gone through the Si Wong Desert instead. This led to several arguments with Toph and Sokka alike, who hated the idea of ever going back to the desert and were happy to start physical brawls if necessary. These would then be broken up by the increasingly annoyed duo of Katara and Suki. Zuko stayed out of the discussion entirely, mostly because he’d never been to the desert and wasn’t too interested in going there.

One day, after trying to escape from a particularly protective sabertooth moose-lion mother for several hours, the general frustration and exhaustion felt by the group came to a head. They had all finished a wild scramble up the side of a cliff, and were lying exhausted on the dusty ground, trying to catch their breath. The sabertooth moose-lion in question paced the base of the canyon wall, as if to make sure no one was even _thinking_ about coming back down. 

“Great,” Sokka grumbled, covering his eyes from the rays of the setting sun. “Now we can’t replenish our water.” They had been following a stream that ran along the bottom of the canyon. Other than being important for getting drinking water and bathing, it also supported much more plant life. At the top of the canyon, the only plants dotting the landscape were tough, skinny shrubs - not ideal for cover or foraging.

“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t tried to eat a baby sabertooth moose-lion,” Jet snarked. He had been in a perpetual bad mood ever since the incident in the barn, and took it out on everyone around him. Even his friends were getting irritated with his constant propensity for starting fights.

“Oh, sure, blame me for trying to get us fresh meat for dinner,” Sokka snapped, sitting up to glare at Jet. “How was I supposed to know that thing was a dangerous predator?”

“It’s okay, Sokka,” Toph said. She was sitting cross-legged on a cylinder of rock she had raised from the earth. “How are we supposed to expect you to know the most basic of eastern Earth Kingdom fauna, anyway?”

“Because you’ve been _such_ a help with that,” Suki growled. The Kyoshi warrior was cleaning a cut on her ankle that she’d sustained during the climb. “Really, Toph, as a resident of the eastern Earth Kingdom, maybe a little direction in what could kill us would be nice.”

Toph sent a ripple through the ground that unbalanced Suki briefly. “What do you want from me, Swishy? A visual description? Let’s see what I can come up with.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Katara said. She was looking quite tired, and impatience was palpable in her voice. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It happened. We don’t need to argue about it.” Zuko silently agreed. If they continued to argue over whose fault it was, they’d be going in circles for the rest of the night.

Suki sighed and lifted her chin. “I apologize,” she said to Toph. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I’m just tired.” Toph sniffed, but accepted the apology with a slight nod.

“We’re all tired,” Jet pointed out. “We’d be there by now if we’d taken the Si Wong Desert route.”

“Or we’d be dead,” Sokka said, laying back down and covering his eyes with his forearm. “Of dehydration, or heatstroke, or a cactus juice overdose, or buzzard-wasps, or -”

“I think there’s a good chance of us dying wherever we are,” Smellerbee muttered, picking up a pebble and tossing it out of sight. “So maybe we shouldn’t argue about it.”

That sentence made the whole group deflate slightly. It was true - the excitement of starting the journey and their noble efforts had worn off, leaving everyone to realize how hopeless the situation was. They hadn’t come in contact with many people, and other than the Foggy Swamp Tribe, no one felt inspired to help them. It had actually been three days since they’d seen anyone who wasn’t a member of their party. It should have made Zuko feel some sort of accomplishment that the resistance was struggling, but instead he just felt the same burned out tiredness as everyone else. Sometimes he forgot why he was there in the first place.

Longshot got up from where he was sitting. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, and his brow crinkled in concentration. He took a few steps forward, then raised his arm in a point. He said the first word Zuko had ever heard come out of his mouth: “Look.”

All their heads collectively turned in the direction Longshot was pointing. The sun had almost completely set, and the complete lack of anything to cause shadows made the sandy ground a burning sea of orange. But off in the distance, there was a dark shape.

“What is it?” Smellerbee asked, coming up to stand next to her friend.

Sokka shielded his face from the sunlight. “It looks like…” His face lit up with excitement. “Is that a town?”

Toph knelt on the ground, placing both palms firmly onto the dirt. “It’s too far away for me to sense,” she said after a moment. “If it is a village, it’s small.”

“Still,” Suki said, grabbing Sokka’s hand. She appeared to be sharing in his excitement at the prospect. “We should check it out. It’s not that far.”

“The sun’s setting,” The Duke said. He seemed to be hesitant to move from his current position on the ground. The incident with the sabertooth moose-lion had rattled the young boy, and Zuko felt a pang of sympathy for him. “Are you sure we should go there in the dark?”

Jet also did not look particularly excited about the distant shadow. “What if it’s not a town at all?” he asked no one in particular. “What if we get there and it’s just some rocks?”

“You are such a buzzkill,” Sokka muttered. Suki nudged him meaningfully, although the expression on her face made it seem like she agreed.

“Well, if we get there and it’s just a bunch of rocks, at least we’ll have shelter,” Katara said soothingly. Having made the decision, she stood up and stretched. Zuko stood as well, grimacing at the ache in his legs from scrambling up the cliffside.

The Duke still seemed apprehensive. He glanced up at Pipsqueak, who offered him a large hand. “Don’t worry, friend,” the large man smiled. “Just a little further.” The young boy took the proffered hand, and Pipsqueak swung the Duke up onto his shoulders.

Jet still seemed none too happy to be walking again, but chose to keep the argument to himself. As everyone started to walk, he dropped into step beside Zuko. Zuko wasn’t sure what to make of that - he and Jet hadn’t talked much since the journey started and Jet had killed someone in front of him. Zuko wasn’t actively avoiding him, but he also didn’t really have anything to talk about with the man. Also, Jet’s generally terrible mood didn’t help.

“What do you think, Wolfbat?” 

Zuko turned in surprise at the sudden comment, as well as the return of the nickname he’d thought he’d escaped. Jet had picked a stalk of wild grass and was rolling it between his lips, looking at Zuko out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, Zuko imagined they were sitting on a rooftop together again.

“What do I think about what?” Zuko asked.

Jet jerked his chin at the group in front of them. Or maybe it was at the shadowed shape they were heading towards. Zuko couldn’t tell. “You don’t speak up much.”

Zuko shrugged. “I don’t have much to say, I guess. I’m tired.”

“I’m tired, too,” Jet muttered. He crossed his long arms loosely across his chest. “Everyone is. Katara and Sokka are making this too complicated.”

Zuko raised his good eyebrow. “What do you mean? All we do is walk.”

“Exactly,” Jet said, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “We’re wasting our energy on treacherous terrain and long routes.” His dark eyes flashed. “Maybe it’s time someone else took charge.”

Zuko nearly stopped in his tracks. “What exactly are you suggesting?” he asked, careful to keep his voice neutral.

Jet shrugged noncommittally. “I’m just saying,” he said quietly. “If we worked together, we might have a little more sway around here.” He looked full on at Zuko, his dark eyes practically burning straight through him. For the first time, Zuko did not feel like humoring Jet at all.

“What you’re suggesting,” he growled, the words hissing between his teeth, “is a coup.”

Jet shook his head, his shaggy hair puffing outwards at the movement. “Not at all, Wolfbat,” he said, his voice still eerily calm. “I just think it could be a little more...democratic around here.”

Zuko narrowed his eyes. “Do you have a problem with Katara and Sokka or something?” he asked, point-blank. Jet laughed, as if the idea was ridiculous.

“We’re all stepping on each other’s toes,” he said, shrugging again. “That’s just what happens when you travel together.” His voice dropped to a stage-whisper. “I can’t help but notice that you and Katara have been spending a lot of alone time together.”

Zuko felt a sudden, hot flush come over his features. “That’s none of your business, Jet,” he snapped. He had been hoping no one noticed the moments he’d had with her, least of all Jet. Something about the fact that Jet had been with Katara in the past made it all the worse.

Jet scoffed. “So that’s why you don’t want to help me,” he said, teasingly. Zuko decided not to respond, instead fixing his gaze ahead and choosing not to interact. Jet either didn’t notice or care. “I’ve been down that road before, man. Let me know when she decides she doesn’t like you anymore. We can talk more then.” He then ran up to walk alongside Smellerbee and Longshot, leaving Zuko fuming in his wake.

As they continued to walk, the sun disappeared behind the horizon, casting them all into darkness. The full moon helped slightly, giving everything a silvery glow. Still, someone complained about the possibility of tarantula-scorpions popping out of their burrows now that the sun was gone, and that made everyone a little bit more on edge.

“Can we just stop?” Pipsqueak asked, adjusting the Duke on his shoulders. “My legs are tired, and we’re hungry.”

“We’re almost there,” Sokka said, exasperation edging at his voice. “And look! It’s totally a village!”

He was right. The once shadowed shapes were now clearly buildings. A soft glow of light seemed to be emanating from the village, making it a beacon in the darkness. Zuko hoped the light didn’t mean anything was on fire. Their track record did not make him optimistic.

The village was small. It probably housed no more than one-hundred people, if that. But as the group approached, the sound of music and laughter floated towards them in the night air. The sources of the glowing light were torches set up at intervals along the main walk of the city, illuminating the scene before them in flickering oranges and yellows. 

There appeared to be some sort of celebration happening. The entire town was out and about, communing with each other and setting up tables filled with various food dishes. There was a circle of people at the town center, clapping their hands or dancing to a group of people playing musical instruments. The energy around the town was light and excitable - not a trace of the misery the war had brought in sight.

The resistance group paused at the edge of the town. None of them had expected to find what they did, and now they were left unsure of what to do. Zuko had no idea if they were intruding on some sort of private celebration, or if there was an Earth Kingdom holiday he was overlooking.

They didn’t have to wait long, however. A few villagers noticed them hesitating on the edge of their town and headed towards them. They were a man and a woman, holding hands and looking relaxed and nonthreatening. Still, Zuko noticed a few members of his group tense up, like they were expecting a fight.

“Welcome to Lia Mao!” the woman said, calling out to them as she and her companion approached. They were both rather young - only a few years older than Zuko was. They wore the clothes of Earth Kingdom peasant farmers. “Are you all travelers?”

“Yes,” Sokka answered, stepping forward. “We’re nomads traveling through the canyons. We saw your town and thought we could shelter here for the night.”

The man grinned. “You couldn’t have chosen a better night!” He stepped back and waved his hand over the town with a flourish. “Tonight is our Harvest Moon celebration!”

“My name is Lesha,” the woman said, smiling. “And this is my husband, Gutoh. Please, come and join the festivities!”

The group exchanged glances with each other. It’d been a while since they’d been shown such hospitality, and the whole thing seemed almost too good to be true. Katara shifted her stance, looking slightly nervous. “Are you sure we aren’t intruding?” she asked. “You probably only have so much food to go around…”

Gutoh laughed. “You act like you have an army or something. We just had our harvest, and tonight we are celebrating with a feast!” He motioned up toward the moon. “It’s the last full moon of the warm season. We might as well enjoy it.”

“Well, this sounds like a great time!” Toph said. “Count me in.” The earthbender started forward into the town, not waiting for any permission from their group. The Duke and Pipsqueak followed her, already talking about how good the food smelled. Sokka and Katara exchanged a glance before walking with Lesha and Gutoh back down toward the festivities. This broke the bubble for the rest of the group, who began to spread out into the welcoming crowd. Zuko remained near Sokka and Katara, who were asking more questions about the town.

“There’s not much out here,” Sokka said, already eyeing the spread on the tables. It appeared to be a potluck style feast, with food in various dishes and styles. It really did smell lovely. “I think you’re the first town we’ve seen in a while.”

Lesha nodded. “That isn’t surprising. There used to be a lot of villages out here, before the mines ran dry.” A sad look briefly crossed her face. “Our mine hasn’t, thank the spirits, but we aren’t nearly as populated as we used to be.”

“Although, in these times, I wonder if it’s a blessing from the spirits,” Gutoh said, darkly. “If the mines were still running at their peak efficiency, there’s no telling what the Fire Nation would have done to control us.”

Zuko swallowed thickly. He was still surprised by how accurately commoners could criticise the current workings of the Fire Nation. Considering how he’d spent his entire life in the royal palace, Zuko always thought of himself as with his finger on the pulse of the nation, or perhaps even the world. Now, he realized bitterly, he had no more knowledge or political opinion than anyone else. Perhaps even less.

“Let’s not talk about that, Gutoh,” Lesha soothed, placing a hand on her husband’s round belly. “It’s the Harvest Moon festival! We should be focused on enjoying ourselves.” She turned, smiling, towards them. “And you should enjoy yourselves as well. It’s obvious you’ve been traveling for a long time. The least we could offer is food and rest.”

Katara bowed. “That is very generous of you. We will be on our way come morning.”

Gutoh waved a hand, his concerns assuaged by his wife. “Don’t worry about it. We have plenty!”

It was true. The harvest this town had made was certainly more than they needed for their small population. Every household had provided at least one dish, if not more. Zuko was unfamiliar with a lot of the food. Much of it was significantly less spicy than Fire Nation cuisine, but he had become used to that in his time living in the Earth Kingdom. The flavors almost always leaned heavily into savory or sour. Zuko tried small amounts of everything, and was often surprised to find he enjoyed the dishes.

One thing that everyone seemed to be taking part in was the endless flow of beer and wine. There wasn’t an official tavern in town, but several of the locals fermented their own alcohol, and were more than happy to share it. Zuko had never tried beer, as it was considered a commoner’s drink, but found himself with a cup in his hand nonetheless. It was bitter and strong, and made a soft warmth grow outwards from his core. A lot of his traveling companions were also partaking in the alcohol - he could see Toph in particular seemed to be having a great time and was showing off her earthbending to some drunk locals. They would cheer and refill her cup every time she did something remotely impressive.

The moon was at its apex in the sky when Zuko found himself sitting alone on the edge of the festivities. He was holding his third (or fourth, he couldn’t really remember) cup of beer. Everything felt warm and happy, although whether that was the alcohol or the atmosphere was up for debate. The dance circle around the musicians had doubled in size, and numerous people were laughing and spinning with one another in the flickering light of the torches. The music was loud and upbeat; even Zuko had started to tap his foot in time with the drums. Several of the group members were greatly enjoying themselves in the dance circle - he could see Smellerbee, Longshot, Pipsqueak, and the Duke spinning around each other in a similar dance to the locals. Even Jet stood at the edge, sipping his drink and smiling. He was talking to a local girl who was listening to him with huge eyes and a dopey smile. Sokka and Suki were also amongst the dancers, although Sokka kept breaking away to do his own strange, awkward moves. Suki always laughed at this, her cheeks a rosy pink in the torchlight.

To Zuko’s surprise, he realized how badly he wanted to join them. They looked so carefree and happy, like there wasn’t a war at all. Zuko had never been to a party before where people looked like they were having fun. All the banquets and galas held at the palace had an air of seriousness about them. People were expected to behave a certain way. They could only dance when they were scheduled to, and only certain dances were allowed. Drinking to the point of drunkenness was extremely frowned upon, and Zuko had seen courtiers escorted out of functions for partaking too heavily. At these functions, Zuko had always stood off to the side where he wouldn’t be noticed, draped in heavy, uncomfortable silks. This was of course, if he was allowed to be there at all. But here there was joy, and it was terribly contagious.

He almost didn’t notice the presence at his side until it cleared its throat. Zuko started, almost spilling his half-drunk beer. Katara was standing to his side, holding a cup in one hand and two tarts in the other. She gave him a slight smile and sat down.

“Hi,” she said, her voice strangely shy. She thrust out the hand holding the tarts. “Do you want one? They’re really good. Egg-custard.”

Zuko took the top of the stacked tarts, giving her a slight nod before taking a bite. She was right - the tart was delicious. It was sweet and thick, and the crust was just crumbly enough to scatter small pieces onto his tunic. But the taste of the tart was good enough that he didn’t care. “Thanks,” he said through a full mouth, suddenly remembering Katara had brought it to him. She nodded, her mouth similarly full of tart.

They sat in a comfortable silence, eating their egg-custard tarts and watching the dancers and musicians. Katara seemed more relaxed than she had in weeks. Zuko kept sneaking glances at her, fascinated by the way the flickering torch glow highlighted the planes of her face and glittered like sparks in her blue eyes. She was even smiling a little - a rare sight these days. Zuko sighed and tried not to think about how her long, unbraided hair might feel between his fingers.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve done something like this,” she said, breaking the silence. Zuko tilted his head slightly toward her. She was staring at Sokka and Suki, who were swinging together out of time to the music and getting in the way of several locals. Zuko had been cringing at this, but Katara seemed almost wistful. “We’ve been working hard on this for such a long time. I didn’t think there would even be time for breaks.”

Zuko turned his attention back to the dancers. Suki brought Sokka into a dip, and the man was so surprised he dropped onto the ground. They both started laughing, and some of the previously annoyed dancers laughed too. Suki grabbed Sokka’s outstretched hand and pulled him bodily off the dirt. He practically crashed into her, making them laugh harder as their faces fell close together. Katara sighed.

“Have I been pushing you all too hard, Lee?” she said quietly. She was looking down into her half-filled cup, like the answers hid among its ripples.

“I don’t think so,” Zuko said, weighing his words carefully. “It’s not like you can afford to drop your guard. The Fire Nation won’t.”

Katara grimaced. “I know. But just look at them.” She gestured at the festivities, nearly spilling her drink as she did so. “Tensions have been running high for so long. Earlier today, everyone was ready to kill each other. Now it’s like the air has been cleared. Look, even Jet is having fun.” It was true - the man had taken the local girl onto the dancefloor and was clearly enjoying himself. 

“I think everyone needed a break,” Zuko mumbled. “Being here...it feels like we can forget about the war. About our responsibilities.” The looming presence of his father pushed at his thoughts for a moment, but Zuko shook it away with a gulp of his drink. “Or maybe everyone’s just drunk.”

Katara laughed suddenly at that, both startling him and making his stomach leap into his throat at the sound. “That’s fair,” she said. She held her cup out toward him in a toast. “To taking a break for once.” He toasted her back, and they threw back the rest of their drinks. Zuko could practically feel his whole body buzzing. 

“What are you doing over here, anyway?” Katara asked, bumping his shoulder with her own. “Are you that committed to your ‘lonesome badass’ persona?”

Zuko knew that under any other circumstance he’d be offended, but right now all he could muster was a blush. “Maybe I’m just not a fan of dancing,” he muttered, looking away from her. Katara giggled, and Zuko’s blush deepened at the sound.

“Do you not know how?” she asked, teasingly. “I mean, you’re pretty awkward, so I wouldn’t be too surprised…”

Zuko spun to face her, annoyance prickling his skin. “Of course I know how to dance,” he snapped. “I had lessons and everything. My instructor said I was very agile.”

Katara’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Oh yeah?” she said, challengingly. “Why don’t you show me?” She stood up and extended her hand down to him. He stared at it, his mouth suddenly going dry as all the fight left his body, replacing itself with nervousness.

“Are you asking me to dance?” he asked, still staring at her hand. 

Katara rolled her eyes, but kept her hand extended. “Spirits, you really are the most awkward man I’ve ever met.” The alcohol had added a reddish tinge to her cheeks, which contrasted against the blue of her eyes. “Yes, Lee. I’m asking you to dance.”

Maybe it was the added bravery from the alcohol. Maybe it was the fact that his heart jumped in excitement at the idea. In any case, he threw all his cautions to the wind and grabbed her hand. She helped pull him up, smiling, then led him down to the others.

However, the second they were among the crush of dancers and she was looking at him expectantly, Zuko remembered that he hadn’t danced in several years, not to mention that the only dances he knew were formal Fire Nation ones. Still, he swallowed his nervousness and took her other hand.

Following the movements around them proved easier said than done. Zuko felt stilted and confused as he tried to equate the villager’s dance moves to something he’d done in his lessons as a child. Katara was not much better - she kept trying to take the lead and stepped on his feet several times. But she wasn’t getting frustrated - instead she was laughing at their mistakes, squeezing his hands tightly as she did so. This made Zuko relax slightly, and he began to move a little easier to the upbeat music.

There was nothing choreographed or expected among the villagers. Sure, they had several recognizable moves that were likely a cultural staple, but everyone seemed to be doing their own thing. Many people danced as partners, while others switched around in groups. A few had broken off by themselves and were moving with their own special sort of grace, their eyes closed and large smiles on their faces. As Zuko realized that no one around them really cared or was even paying attention to him and Katara, he began to loosen up slightly. He pulled Katara closer to him and began to spin with her, letting his body move to the music on its own accord. His partner appeared to become more comfortable with the situation as well, as she spun along with him and matched his movements with a grace he remembered from watching her bend.

It didn’t take long for Zuko to start feeling lost in the moment. The music was loud and the beat was strong, and his body moved without input from his brain. It felt so easy, pulling Katara close and then spinning her away. She seemed to have found her own groove as well, and moved around him like they had been dancing together for years instead of minutes. Her eyes were closed, and her face was an expression of bliss. Zuko was distantly aware of his face hurting, and eventually realized it was because he was smiling.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy. He didn’t care if he was drunk. This was a moment he wished would never, ever end.

The sudden burst of elation made him do something he hadn’t expected himself to do. He moved both his hands to Katara’s waist and lifted her up into the air, spinning her before placing her back down onto the ground again. She looked shocked for a moment, and Zuko suddenly worried he’d done something out of line.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stumbling over himself. He went to pull his hands away from her waist, but she quickly grabbed his wrists and put them back.

“No!” she said quickly. Her face suddenly reddened, and she gave him a sheepish smile. “That was fun.”

Her expression made his stomach do somersaults. He tightened his grip on her waist and lifted her again, unable to stop the smile that spread across his face as she laughed joyfully. Her arms spread to the side like the wings of a bird, and Zuko almost didn’t want to put her down. The torchlight lit her warm brown skin from below, and the full moon above put a silver tinge to her dark hair. She was beautiful, and the thought that she was dancing with him of all people made him breathless.

When they were both worn out from the high energy of the dancing, Katara took his hand and pulled him away from the crowd, back towards where he had been before she’d joined him. Zuko could still feel the buzzing energy of the alcohol, even though it was well into the night. Katara seemed the same. She kept hanging onto his hand even as they passed the spot where they’d been sitting earlier, taking him further into the night and away from the festival lights. For some reason, this made Zuko’s heart beat even harder in his chest. 

Katara didn’t stop until they reached a scraggly tree and a few rocks, well outside the village. They could still see the distant dancers and torchlight, but the music was much quieter from this distance, and more things were lit by the light of the moon instead. Katara sat down hard at the base of the tree, pulling Zuko down with her.

“I haven’t danced in ages,” she said, leaning back against the tree trunk. Zuko struggled to come up with a response for that - he was focused on the fact that she was still holding his hand. She looked over at him, that teasing smile back on her face. “I guess you proved it to me.”

“Proved what to you?” Zuko almost didn’t want to look away from their entwined fingers for fear that she would pull away. Instead, her thumb began to rub soft circles on his knuckles.

“That you can dance,” she laughed. She straightened up slightly, making her face into an exaggerated scowl. “‘I had lessons and everything’.”

Zuko rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but laugh at the impression. “You make me sound like I have the world’s largest stick up my butt.”

Katara grinned. “Actually, if Toph is right, that belongs to _me_.” They both descended into giggles at that. Zuko blamed the alcohol. 

“We used to have a moon festival at the end of summer,” Katara said when their laughter died down. “In the southern Water Tribe.”

“Was there dancing?” Zuko asked. Katara’s eyes practically glowed in the light of the full moon.

“There was,” she said, softly. “It was more ceremonial, though. The whole thing was more of a ‘please spirits, let us survive the winter’ sort of thing.”

Zuko’s brow crinkled. “Is that...a good thing?”

Katara laughed. “Yes! It was still a lot of fun, and we would have all kinds of food too. They’d prepare an entire tiger seal for the event.” She smiled at the memory. “Last time we celebrated it, I dared Sokka to eat its testicles.” Zuko cringed at this, which made Katara snicker. “He had the same look on his face.”

Zuko tried to shake off the thought of eating testicles. “I didn’t know dancing could be so fun,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Back home, it was way more choreographed. If you stepped a foot out of line, everyone would give you nasty looks.” He scrunched up his face at the memory. “So I tried to avoid it.”

Katara tilted her head to the side. “That’s a shame,” she said. “You’re a lot of fun to dance with, Lee.”

He flushed, inadvertently squeezing her hand as he did so. “I like dancing with you,” he said, quietly. Zuko couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or something else, but he found himself leaning slightly closer to her. The air between them felt like it was crackling with static. Her hand tightened in his.

“You know,” Katara murmured, “there was something else about the festival that Lesha told me.” She had leaned closer to him too, and Zuko could feel her warm breath on his face. A shiver raced down his spine.

“What’s that?” he said. His voice was barely a rumble in his throat. His gaze had floated to her mouth, and he found it was difficult to look away. His heartbeat was practically ringing in his ears.

“During the Harvest Moon festival,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “it’s considered good luck to kiss someone under the moonlight.” Zuko wasn’t sure if his face could get any warmer. He was about to ask why, but before he could, Katara closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against his.

For a moment, he was entirely frozen. Several thoughts raced through his head at once, varying from concern to delight and back again. But her hand came up and brushed the scarred side of his face with such tenderness that all those thoughts melted away. Finally, he began to kiss her back.

Katara let out a soft sigh as she deepened the kiss, her mouth soft and hot against his own. Zuko untangled his hand from hers so he could wrap it around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He let the other travel up into her hair, and the sensation of the soft curls trailing through his fingers made him groan. It felt like something had finally clicked into place inside of him, in those moments where he was kissing her. He could barely think at all, could only focus on the way her mouth moved against his, how her tongue traced his teeth and lips and made everything else go away. Zuko couldn’t tell if he was burning up or if she was, all he knew was that he never wanted it to stop. 

When she pulled away from him, Zuko felt like the world was spinning around him. He didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to break the moment. It felt like he and Katara were inside a bubble that could burst any second. He brushed his palm gently up her jaw, trailing his fingers back into her long hair. She leaned into it, turning her head slightly so her lips could caress his wrist.

“Lee,” she whispered.

And just like that, the spell was broken.

Zuko immediately pulled his hand away and leaned back, like she’d burned him. With that one word, the reality of everything had come crashing back to him. She wasn’t kissing _him_ , she was kissing the man she thought he was. The man he’d made up explicitly to trick her into giving him information about the resistance. Something he wasn’t a part of. He was supposed to be _using_ her to get back his place in the palace. Zuko suddenly felt extremely sick.

Katara looked confused and more than a little hurt. “What’s wrong?” she said. “Are you okay?”

He couldn’t look at her without feeling an intense, overwhelming shame. Although whether it was because of the betrayal to her or to his father, he couldn’t tell. He stood up suddenly, creating more space between them. What had he been _thinking_? 

“I…” he trailed off. He could still feel the heat of her kiss. He’d never been more torn between wanting something to have never happened and wanting it to happen again and again. “I need to go.” He turned around and began to walk stiffly away, ignoring the false name that Katara called after him. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was one of my favorites so far. Let me know what you think!   
> Some songs I listened to while writing this: "I'm with You" by Vance Joy, "Girl" (Acoustic) by SYML, "Constellations" by The Oh Hellos, and "The Night we Met" by Lord Huron.


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